Distant Realities
by Darksoar
Summary: Major rewrite, but quite low on the priority list. I gotta play the game again to get some ideas.
1. Distant Realities Pilot Chapter

An Alternate Shining Force story:

Disclaimer: Shining Force and everything related to it doesn't belong to me, though I wish it did. Kudos to Sega and the owners of such a great tactical RPG!!

Distant Realities

Chapter 1

"Where is that boy?" Kokichi muttered as he peered at the exposed machinery of the project he was working on. "I told him to buy the oil and be back here in an hour."

Grumbling, the old inventor straightened his back and looked around his workshop. It was a sorted mess, with piles of scrap metal, gears, rods, pulleys, and miscellaneous whatnot all jumbled respectively in several piles on the floor. His current project, which was lying on his "surgery table", was one which he'd been working on for almost five years now. It had gone well, even with the constant setbacks, with no other help besides his adopted son.

His son was almost a grown man, about to reach the age of 19. He was Kokichi's assistant in the repairing of machinery and in some electronic research. Kokichi had found the lad when he was still a baby, hidden in bushes a few yards away from the gruesome remains of a battlefield. Having had no wife or children at that time due to the almost-hermitlike existence he lived (because of his profession a.k.a. "Absent minded Inventor"), Kokichi nonetheless chose to take the child home with him.

He had named the baby Max, having pulled it out of the blue and thought it as good as any. The maiden name of Kokichi's long dearly departed mother had served to bring the baby's name to Max Wellian.

The early years of Max had been rough, more so on the old inventor rather than his son. To start with, Kokichi didn't have a clue of raising a baby. He had made a lot of mistakes that resulted in late nights, baby Max tantrums, and stress. All of these made a few white hairs show up earlier than planned. But eventually through trial and error experience, the inventor had learned how to adequately take care of Max.

Now, seventeen years later, Max had grown into a fine young man. Kokichi had endeavored to instruct him in the art of science and technology as soon as Max could read and write (public schooling courses). And like a sponge, Max had soaked it up almost as fast as Kokichi could show it to him. Though his grandfather was not perfect, Kokichi's intense passion for science and his almost limitless patience served him well in this stead.

By the time Max was ten years of age, he had already mastered the basic concepts and was beginning the intermediate ones already. Kokichi didn't forget the other areas of study though. He had sent Max to the local beginning school to broaden his education.

But when Max turned twelve years old, another interest unexpectedly caught his eye. Although his grandfather didn't expect it, neither did he condemn it nor did he forbid Max to pursue it.

It had all started when Max had witnessed an unarmed man defend himself against three ill tempered, slightly drunk swordsmen. While bearing no armour or weapons, he had knocked them all out, seemingly effortlessly. Max had been amazed at the man's inhuman speed and impressive skill. He had sought out the man and had pestered him endlessly to teach him.

Kokichi was not sure of all the details, but somehow his grandson's persistence had paid off. The man turned out to be a wandering monk. His name was Hayai Kobushi and he agreed to teach Max the beginning steps of his fighting style, which was one branch in the large tree of martial arts.

After that things had snowballed. Max became even more enthusiastic and persistent in learning how to defend himself and anything related on the subject. Hayai had taught him until Max became the equivalent to what the monk called a second dan. The monk was also quite startled to see how fast Max took to martial arts.

He had later told Kokichi that he had never seen any person increase in skill as rapidly as Max did. By the end of one year, Hayai's wanderlust urge took hold of him and he took his leave of Homesphere. The very next day, Max had gone around the village, seeking someone from whom he could learn more fighting arts from.

Swordfighting came next, learned from a couple of retired former soldiers. Archery, which lead to hunting and the basics of tracking. Battlefield strategies, which Kokichi helped encourage by teaching his son how to play chess. Seeing the limitless potential within the young and eager lad, Kokichi did not want to limit him to only science and technology. He wanted his son to live to be a old and happy grandfather, just like him. The old inventor was also an experienced traveler, and he well knew the dangers of the road.

Therefore he allowed a concession and had hired several masters of the fighting arts. And through all this time, Kokichi also continued to instruct his son in the art of science. For although Max had become almost addicted to physical combat and the like, science was one of his first loves, and he wasn't about to give it up.

Kokichi saw that if Max continued like that he wouldn't get a decent education. So after a serious talk with Max, they came to a compromise. It was decided that Kokichi would send him to the Martial Academy at Guardiana, which was well renowned for turning out excellent warriors.

The cost wasn't an issue as several of Kokichi's earlier inventions had proven quite successful in patenting. The old inventor actually had a small fortune which he could live comfortably off. The main reason why he had kept on continuing with the inventions was because he just loved his work.

The memory of that had Kokichi grinning in spite of himself. He had done a decent job of raising that boy right, he congratulated himself. With his latest project just about done, Kokichi was feeling extremely satisfied over accomplishing an extremely difficult task.

When the sounds of people shouting, grunting, and hearing the crack of flesh striking flesh, it took his smile away. Kokichi knew the sounds of a fistfight when he heard them and due to past experience, he could predict with one hundred percent accuracy who were the participants. Knowing this took his grin away and replaced it with an annoyed looking frown.

"Not again! Those two boneheads!!" he groaned and headed towards the door, grabbing a much-used and worn out wooden rod along the way.

Gramps Kichi was going to kill him.

That was the foremost thought running through Max Wellian's head as he calmy dusted himself off the road and turned to face his aggressor.

It had been a simple errand. 'Go to the store and get five medium-sized oil flasks.' Kokichi's grandson had taken the shortcut to save time. The shortcut was a roughly beaten path that cut near the outskirts of Homesphere and ended up connecting to the main road heading to the Town Square. He also hoped to avoid fighting with Rict Baln today.

At first it was good for practicing his martial arts and he considered it as sparring. But later on as Rict began to consistently attack him with great hostility and painful intent, that was when it started to become less then progressive.

And now Rict had sprung a surprise attack on him by leaping at him from the trees. With quick reflexes, Max had thrown himself into a side roll and came up facing his attacker.

It was widely agreed amongst the youth of Homesphere that Rict Baln, was considered a bully, all red haired, two hundred twenty pounds prime class of it. With an overbearing attitude, arrogant mindset, and a generally ill-tempered behavior, he had set out at an early age of nine years old to terrorize and put down anyone who was smaller then him and not an adult. Being an overly large kid even at such a young age had helped his quest greatly.

And he had such a big bone to pick with Kokichi's grandson, personally.

Snickering nastily, said bully smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, "Oh please don't tell me you've forgotten how we first met. I'm still interested in extending some payback for that."

At once recalling the incident, Max was hard pressed to not collapse in laughter as he thought back to that event.

Flashback

Max and Rict's paths had crossed for the first time five years earlier when Max and Kokichi had moved to Homesphere, and it wasn't anything friendly.

A younger Baln had wanted to test the mettle of the town's newest kid resident, and one day had interrupted Max's walk to the market square. Placing his fists firmly on his hips, Baln had leered at Max and told him to pay him the "toll".

Max had stoutly refused and had tried to walk around the bigger boy. Rict had retaliated by grabbing Maxs' right shoulder and pulled the adopted son of Kokichi towards himself with the intent of doing some physical persuasion.

That action did not agree with Max. Therefore he responded instinctively. Possessing quick reflexes, he had kneed the bully between the legs as hard as he could.

Rict had immediately loosened his hold on Max and slowly sank to his knees. He carefully held his privates and had made a weak, continuous sound. Max would later compare it to those a wolf makes when he bays at the moon. Except being much higher in pitch and weaker in volume, of course.

Max had of course quickly made his escape, grinning gleefully at having gotten free of a potentially harmful situation (for himself). He was a bit anxious and fearful of any future retaliations by the bully, but shrugged his fears off as he reasoned that a bully of Ricts' character would not let anyone know he had been bested. And by a smaller boy at that! Therefore the only wrath he would have to keep an eye out and an open ear for was Balns' own, not the parental version.

Kokichi's adopted son resolved to speak with his father about what happened that day, in order to try and avoid any further troubles with Rict Baln.

End Flashback

Narrowing his eyes at his enemy, Max replied with a mocking smile for Rict, "Well, should I alert the wolf pack to start the howling and give you the lead?"

Max had the pleasure of seeing the smug look on Rict suddenly transform in a grimace as the bully's face contorted in rage.

"That's it. You're dead!!" Rict howled and charged at Max with fists clenched. The smaller teenager's face made no move to defend himself or even run away as his enemy dashed towards him with a meaty fist cocked back. But Max didn't panic, he just stood there with a calm face and measuring eyes. Rict lashed out with a ferocious right straight, throwing his entire weight behind it.

To Max, Rict's attack was nothing special. It had all the subtlety of a oncoming freight train. Max quickly dodged to the side and, as the momentum from Rict's dash carried him past Max, chopped the back of the bully's neck. The extra force made Rict totally lose control over his forward motion and fell on the ground face flat.

Max jumped back from his opponent and raised his fists in a fighting stance, right hand loosely held in a fist near his chin and left hand held vertically before his face, fingers closed together in a knife-like formation. He waited for Rict to get back up.

Barely half a second later, the bully raised himself off the ground, face rubbed with dirt and red with embarrassment and anger. Cursing foully under his breath, he clenched his large fists and swung his body in the direction of Max.

But Max was already there. Advancing quickly, yet stealthily, he had waited to seize the opportunity to catch the bully off guard. A lightning quick left-right jab combination knocked the bigger boy's head back just enough to temporarily stun him. Max followed up with a hard low left hook to the unguarded kidney, making Rict jerk in sudden pain and shy away from the unexpected assault.

Reflexively, the bully swung a wide backhand swing at Max, who quickly ducked it and came up with an uppercut that rocked Ricts' head back. Unlike the two opening jabs, Max had spared no power in this uppercut and had even added a bit more force by lieu of springing from a slight crouch.

Rict quickly retreated back several steps, his guard finally up. Glaring balefully at Max, he wiped the blood that was emerging from the corner of his mouth. Surprisingly, Max hadn't pressed his assault and stood there, studying Rict with calculating eyes.

As in a duel, the two combatants stood there, reassessing each other. It seemed to be an uneven fight. Rict Baln stood at 6"1, with the physique of a laborer. He had possibly the longest reach, as well as being one of the stronger young men in Homesphere and was an experienced fist fighter.

Max Wellian, at 5"8, lacked the height and reach to match the bully. He had a compact build, but was extremely fit, very agile, and possessed quick reflexives and Hayae's training. On top of all of that, Max learned quickly from his mistakes.

Getting his composure and calm back, Rict took a few breaths, shook his head to clear it, then raised his fists in a boxer's stance. He began to advance slowly, weaving his body left and right, all the while keeping his feet in balance with each shift of weight he made.

Max also began to shuffle slowly forward. He stood sideways in relation to his opponent to present the smallest target of his body as possible. Left foot forward, right foot out, Max replicated the fighting stance he had used earlier in the fight. It was a countering stance, to be used against an aggressive enemy.

As if to prove the younger boy's choice true, Rict attacked. He came in fast and hard with a right-left jab combination that Max easily slapped aside with his knife hand in perfect timing, one-two. Fearing a counter attack, Rict immediately launched into a straight kick.

Had Max just done that, Rict's foot and most of his weight behind it, would have fractured his left hip. That would not have helped him at all, so he spun to the right, allowing Rict's body to move past him. While spinning, he slid into a footsweep that made contact with the back of his opponent's shins.

Rict felt the air rush out of his lungs as he impacted the hard ground. His eyes teared in pain and he tried to desperately suck in oxygen. As his tortured lungs gained a little air, he focused on his surroundings and saw a sight he really, really hated. Wellian was standing a few feet away, with his arms crossed over his chest.

Then the bully saw it. Wellian's damned smirk, a pure sign of evil if he ever saw one. It wasn't really a distortion of the mouth, per say, but there was something there. A very irritating something, that gleamed in his eyes. It severely pissed him off, and he decided to do something about it.

"Jeez Baln, this scene looks familiar somehow. You provoke me, we fight, you end up in the dust. Don't you ever learn? You can't beat me until you get more training!" recited Max from habit, as they had done this many times years past.

"Shut up!" his opponent raged and suddenly rolled away and got to his feet. He breathed heavily and was flushed deep red in his face. "Damn you!!"

"So you've said before a hundred times. C'mon I know you can do better!!" Max settled into a defensive stance and waved for Rict to begin.

Predictably, Rict charged. However this time he was in full control of himself and his movements. Rict kept his punches compact and tight, leaving the smallest holes in his defense he could manage. Despite his size, his punches were hard to see as a complex mix of jabs, hooks, crosses and uppercuts were thrown.

However, Max was still the faster as he handily deflected or dodged all blows directed at him. Though he didn't counterattack, Max was just waiting for that one chance to end this fight as efficiently as possible.

Rict was getting angrier at the double facts that had presented themselves to him. One was that he wasn't even landing a solid hit. Second was that Wellian wasn't even trying to fight back! Cursing loudly, he increased the tempo of his punches, trying to get the smaller man into a more vulnerable position.

But Max wasn't cooperating. He had been cooly observing Rict's fighting style and making minute adjustments as needed. Unbeknownst to Rict, by increasing the tempo of his punches he had slightly loosened up his tight stance. Which in turn meant the opportunity to successively counterattack was at hand.

And Max took it.

Slightly tilting his head to the left, he dodged a right straight that flew by so close he felt the rush of air brush his cheek. Before Baln could even recover or throw a follow up punch, Max quickly stepped into his opponent's space and let fly a devastating trio of blows. In rapid succession, a right liver blow was followed by a left. As Rict's eyes involuntarily teared up at the pain, his head exploded upwards yet again with a powerful uppercut. Although it was a near thing, his tongue barely escaped being cut in half by his teeth as his jaw was smashed closed by the impact.

Both fighters seemed to stop in midaction for a split second. Then gravity kicked in and Rict collapsed to the dirt road with a loud thud, unconscious. Max relaxed from his pose and breathed out deeply, letting the adrenaline and tension flow out of him. Master Kobushi had taught him to do that after every battle. It kept the muscles from straining themselves overly too much.

Max grinned victoriously and dusted himself off casually. He made a salute of respect to Rict Baln. The larger boy had really improved his boxing. Had not Max been trained by a former Monk, he would've definitely been beated, and quite badly at that.

His reflective mood was harshly interrupted when something hard smacked him in the back of his head. "Ouch!"

Reflexively, Max threw himself into a forward roll and came up in his usual stance. He was about to attack on whoever had whacked him when his eyes recognized his assailant. "Gramps Kichi! What are you doing here?"

"Don't play dumb, kid! What the hell happened here?" snapped Kokichi, glaring at his grandson. He waved the wooden rod, which he had used for smacking his grandson's head, in agitated circles in the air as suspicious gleam entered into his eyes. "Don't tell me you were fighting with that Baln kid again?" A pointed glance at the unconscious bully was accompanied by a pointed finger. "HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM THAT BULLHEADED BRAT?!!"

As his 'Gramps' Kichi ranted on and on, Max shrugged and began to walk away while Kokichi was otherwise distracted. He didn't get more than five feet when that damned wooden rod struck him again. And in the same place on the back of the head, too.

Max involuntary cursed under his breath.

He recieved a harder whack for his trouble.

"Pay attention!! And quit that swearing! I didn't raise a foul-mouthed kid!" roared his angered Grandfather, cane held at ready should Max decide to attempt another escape.

Groaning, Max prepared himself for yet another long, loud full blown lecture. And holding his hand against a soon-to-be bruise that was throbbing with bearable, yet irritating pain.

Two hours later, Max and Kokichi were in the workshop, doing some last minute adjustments on the old inventor's latest project.

"Is it ready Gramps?"

Kokichi barely grunted a reply as he tightened a bolt inside the project's innards. He withdrew his hand and placed the wrench back in its place on the sidedesk. Wiping some of the oil off his hands with a convenient rag, he allowed a wide smile to crease his face and turned to his assistant-grandson.

"Are you ready boy?"

That grin was out of place for such a serious tone, Max thought. He rolled his eyes at that, then nodded his head. He didn't trust himself to say anymore, as he was still a bit sullen after the **unfair** lecture his Gramps had whipped out. Perhaps it was just just old age that was making him eternally cranky and short tempered of some things.

Despite his efforts to keep an approximate mood fit for such an important and amazing scientific achievement, Kokichi couldn't help but feel a bit giddy and excited. Like a kid who discovered a new toy, it was all he could do to not start bouncing around, making childlike noises of glee.

Calling upon the discipline learned from a lifetime of careful study and implementation, Kokichi brought himself to a decent degree of control. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then without further adieu, he pressed the activation switch and closed the lid. Standing back with arms crossed over his chest, he was about to witness years of hard work, about to come to fruition.

END CHAPTER 1

CONCEPTION OF IDEA: JULY 14, 2004

WRITING COMMENCEMENT: JULY 15, 2004

ROUGH DRAFT COMPLETED: AUGUST 31, 2004

MULTIPLE EDITING COMPLETED: SEPTEMBER 22, 2004

Author's Notes:

Well, this is my very first fanfiction ever. I was kinda nervous about posting it here, hence the long editing time. I'm surprised that I managed to finish a chapter ï 


	2. Distant Realities Chapter 2

Disclaimer:

Unfortunately I do not own Shining Force or have any rights to it whatsoever! I wrote this only because I really enjoyed the game Shining Force: Legacy of Great Intentions. With that out of the way, on with the tale!

An Shining Force Alternate Tale

Distant Realities

Chapter 2

The loud hum of a generator starting up sounded through the main chest plate. A series of beeps, whirs, and clicks followed next. Then finally, a louder double beep started and the 'eyes' of the project lightened up. A bland, slightly stilted sounding voice emitted from the 'mouth', which moved opened and closed accordingly to the words it formed.

"Unit Model No. AD1M-BA34 online. Commencing self-diagnostics. Hardware and system check commencing..." A low whirring hum, much like a flying spinning disc makes in the air, sounded for a few minutes. Then more multiple beeps came next, and finally the voice spoke again.

"Self diagnostic completed. Summary of self-diagnostics: Hardware systems diagnosed at approximated system functionality of 80 percent. Overall software protocols diagnosed at approximated system functionality of 70 percent. Saving results in file cabinet. Initiating AuroraAware AI..... Greetings sirs, how may I be of service?"

Unit AD1M got off the lab table and stood before the two human beings. Standing at its full height of five feet eight inches, the robot was composed of an unknown metal that Kokichi was unable to identify.

The robot didn't look new; in fact it looked like it had been through a lot in many years passing. The metal was dull, and numerous little and a few mid-sized dents, scratches, and stains covered the entire surface. Although more than half of the metal surface was discolored, what little that was visible hinted a yellow and red pattern, though.

The main body was divided into two parts. The upper part was crafted in imitation of a human chest and shoulders, where the arms were attached. Where the stomach would be was a set of rods, pipes, and larger cylinders that ran parallel to each other. They exited out of the upper body and entered into the lower body area, where the hips would be. The "hips" was composed of a triangular sized component, to which the legs were connected with.

A large cylinder, beset by two thinner ones running parallel beside it, made up the neck. On top of the neck was a rather unremarkable looking bullet shaped head with two eyelights, and a hinged "jaw", completed the body.

When the robot had first activated before him, Kokichi had begun to smile. When the diagnostics ran, the smile transformed into a wide grin that stretched from end to end. And when it stood up smoothly (not jerkily and cumbersome as Kokichi had half expected) had greeted them, Kokichi simply couldn't resist the urge to express what he felt at the moment.

"It's alive! It's aliiiiivve!! Hahahahaha!! I HAVE CREATED LIFE!!!! BOW DOWN BEFORE ME!!!!!!" A loud smack was heard as a certain grandson slapped his forehead in utter disbelief and a bit of disgust.

Then the old inventor suddenly started dancing around the table, waving his arms around his head. He then started to cackle madly at nothing in particular and scream at the top of his lungs 'I did it!! I did it!!' Max's jaw almost dropped to the floor as he witnessed a sight he had never believed imaginable. His serious, disciplined, and ornery Gramps was behaving like some wild kid on a high sugar intake.

"I believe that the older Sir requires immediate professional, psychological aid or intensive telepathic reconstruction of the psyche." The robot supplied helpfully.

While witnessing the antics of his grandfather, Max was shaking his head in mild disgust. Then the full impact of what his grandfather had actually done finally struck him. Max had always held his grandfather's skills and knowledge in the highest of regards. But now, an overwhelming wave of pride and awe washed over him like a tidal wave.

His Gramps 'Kichi was the best! All those so-called "Royal Science Advisors" to the King were second-rate theorists compared to him. Of this Max had no doubt, and this latest success just confirmed it. So involved in thought was Max that he didn't react to the robot trying to get his attention.

"Sir? Sir? Oh what a tragedy this is? To have encountered by not one, but two Sirs who have disabled functions. One appears to be suffering from a temporary lapse of sanity; the other is rendered both mute and impaired of hearing. What is a Unit AD1M-BA34 to do?"

"Hey!! I'm neither deaf nor dumb! I was just lost in thought!!" Max was a bit irritated at having this...thing prejudge him based on untrue conclusions.

"Young Sir has incredibly regained full function of his vocal cords and ears but now displays symptoms of severe absentmindedness. Searching medical archives..... Subject Brain, Human."

Torn between anger, amusement, confusion and wonderment, Max could only say one thing. "Oh Gods of Light save me. A robot, an artificial lifeform, with a sense of humor?! We're all dead now."

Unit AD1M eyelights winked on and off. 'Did he just blink his eyes?' thought Max.

"Young Sir, I will let you know that I am a fully functional, one hundred percent guaranteed, centuries lasting general purpose EMAM! To think that I am just a, a simple programmed, single tasking robot is, well, an insult!"

"Robot, moving machine, EMAM, what's the difference? Wait, what is an EMAM anyways?"

If the synthesized voice could be any colder, Max would be an icicle right now. Speaking tersely, Unit AD1M answered, "EMAM stands for Enhanced Multitasking Artificial Machine. I am far more superior than any mere 'robot'."

Max scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Wait, since the last 'M' in EMAM means Machine, then I was right in calling you a 'moving machine', right?"

Unit AD1M seemed to be insulted again by that. "A 'moving machine'? Young Sir, I am the finest prototype ever created by my makers, Tarv and Marv Wynstain. I theorize that you have not seen anything remotely like me, so forgiveness on my part is required. Doubtlessly, the longer I am in your service, the more you will appreciate my uniqueness."

Max groaned, "Oh gosh, not just a twisted sense of humor, but a ego as well!" "Those are just a few parts of my charming personality that you will encounter. In a few days, I guarantee that you will feel like a million Crowns!" Unit AD1M returned.

"Gods of Light save me!"

"Do not forget the Older Sir in your prayers, Young Sir."

While waiting for his grandfather to stop his, well, celebration, Max decided to learn more about Unit AD1M. At least he wanted to stop being called 'Young Sir', as it was irritating him. So he told the EMAM so.

"Very well, I shall address you as just 'Sir', until when you actually inform me of your name."

Max snorted in near exasperation. "Fine, fine. It's Max, Max Wellian." Then a thought struck him. "Unit AD1M, is that your name? Add to that, why do you act the way you do" Thinking that last question was a bit unclear, Max hurried to clarify it. "I mean, how and why do you act so human? Other than the words you use (which are the ones a university science professor would speak), if I couldn't see what you looked like, I would have thought you were human."

The EMAM nodded his head, taking in the sudden barrage of questions, then formulating the correct answers. "I shall answer your queries in the order which they were presented. My full current designation is Unit AD1M-BA34, prototype general purpose EMAM series B. Created by the Wynstain Brothers who I mentioned earlier and manufactured by E-Droids Bayver Industries. My CPU was activated for the first time on the First Month Benarel, on the Year 455. I –." Unit AD1M's self-description was interrupted by Max, who practically spat out, "Whoa, whoa, hold on a second. The Year 455? That's, that's impossible!! How could your structure survive all these centuries?" He asked skeptically.

"Centuries? Unless my audio receptors are suddenly damaged, I would state that clarification is needed to your inquiry. Your exact question was 'How could your structure have had survived all these centuries', was it not?"

"Um, yeah...."

"Regarding that inquiry, I would ask you, Sir Max, a question as well. What is the current date?"

Shrugging and a little bit confused, Max answered, "Let's see, oh yes, it's the Fourth Month Abren, Third day, of the Year 900."

Unit AD1M was silent for a while, then said, "Interesting. I now comprehend your statement regarding that possibility. According to my internal time control unit, I was shut down on the Eighth Month Zarryis of the Year 510. It seems that approximately four hundred years have passed."

Max's eyes widened and he let out a low whistle of amazement. He eyed the EMAM's battered and dented form with new understanding. "What are you made of anyways? It must be something beyond durable."

The EMAM considered this, then responded. "Since I was a prototype, my creators decided to have me composed entirely of a newly forged material. The name was Cytanillanium; and was constructed to be a lighter and stronger alloy then the existing metals in existence then. The person, who conceived of the idea of Cytanillanium, or Cylanium, was a scientist by the name of Dr. Wistel. He did so in regards to the fastest time and lowest expense it would take to be forged. It is a splendid testament to the fruits of his labor that I am not deformed nor partially dismembered today."

Max nodded in agreement. Whoever the Dr. Wistel was, he had Max's full respect. Then another question popped up, so he asked, "You said a while ago that you were shut down. How did that happen? I mean, if this Cylanium is as durable as it seems to be, then what could damage you bad enough for you to shut down?"

Uncharacteristically, Unit AD1M seemed to pause, as if trying to fill in a blank spot. Max waited patiently for almost a minute until the EMAM finally answered. "I do not understand it. From what my scans of my memory banks can produce, it seems that all the information I personally observed and stored is deleted. I have no information of what might have transpired. I theorize that whatever caused it, the physical impact was severe enough to cause my AIOS (Artificial Intelligence Operation System) to auto shutdown in order to minimize damage sustained."

Max was about to reply when Kokichi, who had finally composed himself, came up from behind and coughed. Max glanced at him, then said to the EMAM, "We'll finish this conversation later." The robot nodded in reply, then faced the old inventor as well. When Kokichi saw that he had their full attention, he began speaking.

"Well, well, well, here we are. I still have trouble believing that I actually did it, but the truth is right in front of me. Ahem, well, I guess introductions are in order, if a bit belated. Anyways, my name is Kokichi Wellian and this is my grandson, Max. You are in my workshop, in the village of Homesphere, in the province Rushalad, ruled by the Kingdom of Alterone."

The EMAM nodded his head and spoke. "Master Kokichi Wellian and Master Max Wellian entered into Owner Registry. Greetings, Masters, I am Unit AD1M-BA34." He repeated his origins for Kokichi's sake, since Max had already heard it. Then he explained, "My programming directs me to serve a benefactor of mine. Since I theorize that you, Master Kokichi, single-handedly repaired me, and since Master Max is your relation, you have now become my new Masters."

Kokichi just grinned modestly. Then he replied, "Well, I can't really take all the credit for repairing you. Max here helped me out quite a lot. He must have done around, oh, about sixty percent of your hydraulic and movement oriented systems. They were busted up pretty bad."

Unit AD1M responded, "Impressive. I would have assumed that most of the technical knowledge that existed four hundred years ago would have been long since lost. Would you mind informing me on specifically how you accomplished this?"

Snapping his fingers, he quickly realized something. "I'm getting off track aren't I? Sorry 'bout that. Well, I've been an inventor for mostly all my life, trying to figure out how to push current technology past its limits and beyond into the next horizon. But somehow, everything I've done or encountered, I've dealt with hardly any problems. Until I came to learn of your, uh, inanimate remains, I've never really had a challenge before. But that's a story for another time."

His grandson had waited patiently until his elder had finished talking, then dryly commented, "Gramps, you should really write that self biography I've been bugging about for the past couple of years. I tell you, it'll be an instant bestseller!"

Kokichi glared mockingly at him then shook his head. "I'll wait until I'm ready to finally retire; then I'll write it. There's still much more to learn, to invent!" A familiar enthusiastic gleam began to shine in his eyes.

Max hid a smirk while pretending to cough. "Well, be sure to keep the 'dancing in glee' part out of the chapters, okay Gramps? Just exactly what was that all about anyways. Weren't you the one who constantly lectures me about 'self control'?"

His grandfather playfully swatted Max on the arm. "Jeez, kiddo. Just grant an old man some entitlement for some rejoicing over a hard task finally finished! Besides, I'm an old man so a few eccentricities are allowed." His grandson nearly bowled over in full laughter, but remembering his grandfather's formidable walking stick, he managed to contain it.

Kokichi then turned his attention to the EMAM. Becoming more serious, the old inventor said, "Back to the subject at hand. I'll admit that repairing you took a lot of time, money, and energy. I almost had to scrape dry all of my knowledge and do tons of research at libraries and universities at Alterone and Guardiana. But the one single thing that helped me the most was this."

The old inventor walked to a stack of books lying in the corner and picked one up. With a bit of a flourish, he went back and held it out before the robot. "Behold!!" he proclaimed in near reverence.

Said robot examined the book. It was old and battered, with the back cover missing and the front one hanging by a thread. By the sheer volume of the manuscript, he calculated that it contained at least twenty five thousand pages. Through some good fortune, it seemed that all pages were intact, though like him, it seemed to have survived countless years. Then, sound a bit incredulous, he read the title, which was a bit faded, but still legible.

"The Idiot's Guide to Ancient Machinery and Robotics Self Repair?"

Grinning proudly, Max's grandfather said, "I found it in the possession of a certain type of merchant who dealt in old items from the distant past. It was already about a year after I found you and since I wasn't really making any progress, I snatched it up right away. Amazingly, the merchant sold it to me for only ten Crowns. He said that book had been in his family for several generations, and that he was glad to be rid of it."

Clearing his throat, Kokichi abruptly changed the subject.

"You know, 'Unit AD1M-BA34' is kind of awkward and, well, is a bit on the long side to say. How about if we give you a nickname?"

The EMAM sounded confused, "A nickname, Master Kokichi? What precisely is that?"

Kokichi seemed to expect such a question. "A nickname is sort of, well, an alternate name for yourself to be called by other people familiar with you. In most cases, it's shorter and easier to pronounce than your original name."

"I agree with your explanation. 'Unit AD1M-BA34' is simply a designation for my creator to identify me with. I would readily accept a 'nickname' for myself, as it would clearly make simplify matters of you addressing me." the EMAM reasoned.

"Hmmm," mused Kokichi as he rubbed his chin, "what would be a good nickname for one such as yourself?"

"As this is a new concept for myself, I regret that I cannot lend aid in this matter."

Grandson and grandfather were silent as they considered ideas and possibilities until...

"I got it!" Max exclaimed, slamming a fist into an opened palm. He turned to the robot and said, "How about," he paused dramatically for a second, "Adam?"

Kokichi thought it over, then agreed. "It somehow sounds fitting. And it almost sounds the same as first part of his designation, AD1M. Sounds great. Nice work, kiddo!" He slapped his grandson's back in congratulations.

"Adam." The EMAM ran it through his dictionary software then continued, "Newly made; First of a kind. It is quite fitting; Very well, I shall register it. From now on, my nickname is Adam."

Kokichi and Max both smiled. "Welcome to the family," they said at the same time, reaching out to pat Adam's shoulders.

Adam tilted his head slightly to the left, then spoke in a tone that sounded as if he wanted to cry. "Oh Master Kokichi! Master Max! Embrace me and be embraced! This is a truly positive day for me to have experienced!" He spread his arms out in invitation.

"Errr, no thanks," said the two inventors as they cautiously shuffled a step backward. One squeeze from that robot and they would be possibly crippled for life.

"I was attempting a joke. Do not be alarmed. Wait, why are you backing towards the door so suddenly? Do not panic! I just want to express my gratitude for your efforts on my behalf. Masters? Masters, please come back! Do not run away from me! COME BACK!!! I NEED AN EMBRACE!!!"

End Chapter 2

Rough Draft Completed: September 19, 2004

First editing: September 21, 2004

Final editing: September 25, 2004

Whew, thank heaven I am done with this chapter! I had been struggling for a couple of days trying to figure out exactly how to bring Adam into the story, not to mention his personality, and at least part of his history... dang what a headache!

I'm not too sure of how this chapter turned out and I've got more than a handful of doubts about it, but oh well. Please review!!

Oh yeah, speaking of reviewing, I would like this moment to thank the people who reviewed the first chapter. A heartfelt "Thanks a lot!" from me to them. I never imagine that I would get any positive reaction for my first fic. (Author jumps up and clicks his heels together, singing "Oh Happy Day!")

Sorry that this chapter didn't contain any action scenes. It almost took my entire muse at the time to finish this chapter. I know it's merely a long dialogue scene, but I will probably add more on to this chapter in the first draft or so. It's a possibility.

I hope you readers didn't fall asleep at the keyboard while halfway into this chapter! I promise I will make it up to you guys in the next one as Max, along with Adam, prepares to leave for Guardiana!

Oops, bad Darksoar. I almost forgot. You guys probably noticed the weird names of the months while reading this chapter, huh? Well, since the world of Shining Force isn't Earth, I've made new names for months and also a new monetary system. Check it out, here they are along with Earth equivalents:

Earth Months Distant Realities Equivalent

January the First Month, Benarel

February the Second Month, Vyntaran

March the Third Month, Nordel 

April the Fourth Month, Abren

May the Fifth Month, Sarden

June the Sixth Month, Hakken

July the Seventh Month, Orkyss

August the Eighth Month, Zaryyis

September the Ninth Month, Lorrel

October the Tenth Month, Kendle

November the Eleventh Month, Marhd

December the Twelfth Month, Aasyon

Monetary Equivalents

Penny Ring

Quarter Sceptre

Dollar Crown

(Sorry, no dimes, nickels, or half dollars!)

Till the next Chapter, see ya then! Of course, Reviews and comments and criticism are always welcome, needed, and appreciated!!

Whoops, my apologies. It seems that the Author's Notes are even longer than those of Chapter 1! Hehe, my bad.

DarkSoar

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	3. Distant Realities Chapter 3

Ever present disclaimer:

I hereby claim that the title Shining Force and related peripherals do not in any way belong to me. Pity...

Distant Realities

Chapter 3

Even after finishing up Adam, Max found that he had plenty of things to do before he could prepare himself to enroll at Guardiana. After sending the application form, he went to visit several of his instructors. When he explained to them that he was leaving soon to Guardiana, all of them had decided to complete as much of the different parts of his training as possible in the short time that they had remaining.

In this, Adam had accompanied his younger master at Kokichi's advice. "Adam needs to learn about how much different civilization is now, as compared to four hundred years ago. Besides, how is he going to serve you if he doesn't know anything about you? This'll be a good thing for both of you! Since you'll be taking him with you to Guardiana, you two need to learn how to work together as a team."

'That advice had made sense', thought Max as he and Adam strolled to his next lesson, which was sword fighting with Dengry Delacan. 'A metal plated companion whose body can't be harmed by conventional weapons and who can knock out an Ogre with a blow will be pretty handy to have around.' Max made a wry face, unnoticed by Adam. 'Although his sense of humor can be a bit irritating sometimes.'

However, a thing like that wasn't enough to cause even a little irritation for Max. His sensei, the Master Monk Hayai Kobushi, who had instilled within Max a deep sense of control and calmness. "Know the obstacle, learn from it. And still if you cannot change the obstacle in front of you, then perhaps it is you should change," was one of his oft spoken proverbs. The martial arts teacher had told his student that the principles of the martial arts could be applied to almost any given situation.

With such an example encountered by him, in this case Adam's sense of humor, Max now understood what Hayai had meant. By asking Adam about his sense of humor yesterday, he understood now that it was in Adam's programming. It was an integral part of Adam's still growing personality, which would continue to change as long as Adam was functional. So now, Max had learned to ignore it when it necessary, and even to appreciate it when the situation called for it.

Indeed, Max's patience and tolerance was called into action when Adam's presence in Homesphere became known. Small crowds of townsfolk, and not a few travelers, would gather around Adam (and by default Max). While most would jabber with each other and ask questions of Max, a few brave souls would venture to touch Adam. It was all very annoying and bothersome, until Kokichi himself pleaded to the mayor to intervene.

Now, with almost a month gone by after the completion of Adam, the EMAM was free to walk around without being bothered. The most that would happen was just a few curious turned curious heads, and some of the children would shyly try and touch Adam again. Being that Adam ignored the glances and actually liked the children, he tolerated it all in good humor.

Besides getting acquainted with Adam, the next couple of weeks swiftly flew by as one by one, Max's four instructors put their student through a series of difficult final "tests".

His archery and horsemanship instructor Taka Manako drilled him mercilessly. Max had already learned how to ride and take care of a horse. He had also learned how to use the bow and arrow, as well as the crossbow and bolts. Taka told him to master riding bareback while shooting arrows and guiding with his knees. The archery instructor, who had trained archery regiments of various kingdoms, also expected Max to be able to hit the target with all his arrows while doing all that.

James Moorson, who had been a hunter and tracker nearly all of his adult years, put Max through an extremely fearsome test. The two of them played hide and seek in the nearby forest. Moorson would vanish within the vegetation and Max would have to locate him within three hours. Just to 'liven' things up, Moorson had placed many traps, all scattered almost randomly. Although not lethal, they could do great injury if not carefully avoided.

An old friend of Kokichi, Erman Issental, was a retired military strategist. After meeting the young Max and witnessing his quick mind, Erman was more than happy to teach him what he knew. Since they had no actual forces to direct, he taught Max the main factors in what to consider when on a battlefield. Using carved models, Erman showed his student how to spot and attack an opponent's weak spot. In addition, Erman taught him the important considerations of the forces under his command, and how to maximize their efficiency. He also taught Max squadron tactics, attack and defense formations, as well as flanking maneuvers, surprise attacks, and solid attack group combinations.

Finally, after near almost two months of preparation, Max considered himself almost ready to leave for the Academy. There was only one last test to undergo and which was probably going to be the hardest out of all the ones he'd finished.

Max and Adam approached the designated training area where Delacan waited. Its location was a wide, circular clearing in a fairly open, sparsely cluttered forest only a few yards away from the back of the town. The ground was ideal for swordplay. Evenly leveled, with no rocks nor hidden holes that might provide a sudden stumble.

During the test, the two men would spar with practice blades. These were real swords that weren't sharpened but were still dangerous, due to the fact that no armor was worn. Kokichi's grandson took a moment to study his opponent.

A SwordMaster was a person, male or female, who had completely mastered the sword or any variant of same. He or she must be extremely knowledgeable and skilled in the theory and execution of the various techniques of the sword. A SwordMaster was a title of high regard, for they were considered to be unbeatable with a sword, and were respected greatly for the skill they wielded. Although not a military officer, a SwordMaster could serve in a capacity as a teacher of the blade, or even be hired on as a commanding officer of a contingent.

Dengry Delacan had been a SwordMaster at Guardiana around twenty years ago. He had created a rigid, thorough daily exercise regimen for Max, which was complemented by the other trainers. His student had complained about it when he first saw it, saying it was impossible to begin even the starting steps. However when Dengry had told Max that it was a watered down version of the regimen they had at the Martial Academy, Max had instantly silenced himself and applied his efforts to it.

Although old, he had kept himself in very good shape. At fifty-three, with gray now overriding the black at the temples, he still remained a formidable fighter. Six feet tall, with knifelike gray eyes, and a moderately lined face, along with a hawk nose, Dengry possessed a hard, muscled body that revealed decades of constant training. His muscles, reflexes and mental strength were equal to men at least fifteen years younger then him. As an experienced SwordMaster, he could use almost any bladed weapon equally effectively. More than that, Dengry could use two different types of swords at the same time with devastating results.

He was easily Max's favorite instructor, and not just because of the Guardiana link. He was a tough instructor, expecting the best that Max could give him on a daily basis, without fail. He demanded that his student learned the different forms of a given weapon within two days. Max knew that Delacan would push him beyond his limits, and thus making him stronger, all by erasing his weak points and increasing his strong ones. Delacan had often told to Max that by the time he was done with him, Max would be considered the complete fighter.

Adam stopped and let his Master walk on ahead. He knew that the two of them would require lots of room, and that Master Max wouldn't like any distractions. Max had told the EMAM that Dengry and he only sparred once a week, and then only of Max's teacher thought he saw improvement with his student. Max had also made a deal with the SwordMaster. If he won just once, then Dengry Delacan would write him a letter of recommendation to the dean of the Academy.

Now the SwordMaster nodded at Max, then threw a practice blade at him. Without breaking stride, without even flinching, Max caught it in mid air. He walked three more steps forward then stopped, being only four feet away from Delacon. He immediately held it with both hands, lowering the point almost to the ground and letting his left leg lead, leaving his right leg back as a base. He was ready and so nodded curtly at his teacher.

Dengry nodded silently back then assumed a similar position. He barked out to his student, "First touch equals instant death." Then suddenly, without any warning, he lunged and lifted his blade into a quick thrust.

Kokichi's grandson was nearly caught flat footed were it not for his quick reflexes and thinking. With a single twist of his wrists, and at the same time stepping to the side, he sent his sword swinging up to meet the flat of Dengry's blade with the edge of his own. His quick parry knocked Dengry's blade away from him but he knew that the fight had just begun.

"I have some good advice Master Max! Do not fall asleep when a man is waving a sword at you!" advised Adam suddenly, though he was ignored.

The experienced SwordMaster used the force from the parry and also by quickly shifting his feet to spin an incredibly rapid full circle, coming in low to slice at Max's shins. But expecting that attack, Dengry's student had quickly hopped away backwards to gain space immediately after his initial parry. With the merest hint of approval in his eyes, Dengry rose from his lowered position and attacked again, with a series of chest slashes.

"Remember to attack! A battle is not won by defense alone!" shouted the EMAM helpfully. "No kidding!" replied Dengry's student sarcastically.

Max felt satisfaction at seeing the approval, but quickly pushed it away, focusing on the here and now. Overconfidence would lead to defeat, it had happened multiple times in the past. But especially now, he was determined to try and defeat his teacher today.

If it would happen, it would be the first time ever since he started training with Dengry. He would get that recommendation!

Responding with the proper parries, Max's sense of determination grew. He would do it. He would be defeated today! Perhaps in the past, but not today. He gazed alertly at his opponent, watching for any betraying twitch of muscle, scanning any sign in the eyes, trying to read the SwordMaster's intent. Everything else faded into the background; only his opponent was there, the focus of his attention.

With his concentration at its peak, Max came in hard and fast, never using the same attack twice and came in at every angle possible. His dull edged blade was a flashing blur as he fell into an intricate routine he had created himself. Quickly covering any holes in his defense by attacking aggressively, Max brought the fight to his opponent.

"Remember to defend! A battle is not won by offense alone!" Adam rephrased. Max just growled in exasparation.

But for all of that, no matter how well thought out, how skillfully executed, his master stopped all of them cold. Then it was Dengry's turn to advance. The Weapons Master fired off several deceptive, sweeping cuts and slices, with a few feints thrown. He kept his attacks at a constant, steady rate, then suddenly quickened the pace, keeping his opponent on his toes.

"Oh no! My Master is certainly dead, I cannot watch!" wailed Adam as he covered his optical sensors with his fingers.

"Oh ye of little faith," growled said Master under his breath, as he concentrated on defending against the assault.

However, despite his words, Max nearly panicked. He kept backing up and it took all of his self control and every ounce of skill just to attempt and defend against every strike. His teacher was executing some new techniques he had never shown to Max, let alone teach. Dengry's attacks were so swift, Max was frantically blocking and tapping them aside frantically.

Seeing Dengry setting up for a thrust, Max instantly set his to beat it aside and counterattack. But it was merely a feint, and the SwordMaster's real attack came up as a upward cut. Max nearly screamed in surprise as he reflexively twisted his body to the side and barely dodged it. When his opponent's blade came back down as a slanted vertical slash, Max's reflexes saved him yet again. He dropped to his knees, just dodging the slash by the barest of margins. But the SwordMaster took full advantage of Max's position and kicked his student in the face.

"That is not a legal move!" complained a certain observer.

Max saw the kick coming and rolled with it, thus reducing the damage done by more than half. However the damage was done. Half of Max's face went numb; luckily though his eye had escaped the impact but it seemed like church bells were ringing in his head. On automatic instinct, the SwordMaster's student rolled backward and unsteadily got to his feet.

Dengry took yet again full advantage of the situation and charged Max, alternating between straight and reverse strokes. It seemed that the match was soon to end.

"Eye on the sword! Keep your eye on the sword, Master Max!" the robot instructed helpfully.

But Max, being Dengry's best student ever, rose to the challenge. Knowing that he had to gain time in order to recover, he launched a fully defensive routine. Since he was still a bit stunned, he easily gave up ground to the SwordMaster and constantly changed the direction of his footwork. Using a focusing technique he learned from Koshuba, he managed to block away the disorientation and concentrated only on Dengry's blade.

Keeping his feet in balance while defending, and as the aftereffects subsided, he eventually grew more calm and measured. As Dengry renewed his flurry, Max skillfully discouraged each attack and struck at his teacher's weakest defenses. The clanging of steel on steel filled the air, and now both men began to perspire freely.

Good things, thought Max, come to those who wait. When he and his teacher broke apart after a swift exchange, he immediately wiped the sweat from his brow. Bringing up his sword over and across his right shoulder, the young man lunged forward and slashed high, at Dengray's neck.

His instructor hurriedly ducked, barely enough as Max's sword brushed the hair on the top of his head. Dengray retaliated with an upward jab, which Max on his return slash, left to right, knocked it away.

After parrying an overhead chop, Max sensed a slight weakening of the guard near his teacher's leg thigh. Grunting from the recent exertions, he sent a thrust of his own, as quick as he could. But he was disappointed when Dengry deflected it aside handily. Max used his wrist strength once again to reverse the deflection and swung a slash to his opponent's right side.

"Cannot my Master execute any technique successfully?" complained the robot in a disappointed tone.

The SwordMaster's blade met it there and the two practice blades met hilt to hilt, bringing the two men's bodies close together. With the faintest sheen of sweat on his forehead, the SwordMaster complimented his student, the best he had ever had. "Indeed you have improved significantly since the last time we sparred. But this is merely just the warm-up, show me your true skill, Max Wellian!"

With a roar and a surge of strength, the older man shoved Max's sword away and lifted his own. Then he brought it down in a vicious cross body slash, thinking that Max had no defense left, as his blade was off to the wrong side.

But suddenly the downward motion of his attack was halted! Max had let his weapon fly away with Dengry's break, and caught the other man's wrists with his hands, thus nullifying the downward slash

'Good things have come!' flashed through Max's head.

Without wasting a second, Max leaned to the right and, balancing himself on his right leg, quickly sent his left knee towards his teacher's abdomen. With the impact, Dengry let out a strangled groan and hunched over slightly, though he kept his grip on his sword. Because his teacher's stomach was extremely well conditioned, Max knew that he would recover soon. So with that, he repeated his knee strike again, and quickly released his teacher's wrists. Although free, Dengry didn't have a chance to do anything about it because he was hit by a strong sidekick, right into the solar plexus.

"Good one Master Max!" cheered Adam, blatantly ignoring the fact that he had condemned Dengry earlier for use of his legs.

The kick threw him to the ground, stunned and with the air knocked out of him. Before he could rise, before he could even regain his equilibrium, he felt the touch of cold, unsharpened steel on his throat. Instantly relaxing the grip on his weapon, he lay back in submission. "I yield."

Match over. First touch to Max.

The sound of an extremely happy and relieved young man shouting in sheer joy filled the air.

Adam's optical sensors flashed twice (though it was hard to tell in the sunlight) and he pumped both of his arms in the air. Then a victory fanfare tune sounded forth from an undisclosed speaker in celebration.

Grimacing a bit at the pain in his midsection, Dengry was nevertheless very proud of his student. For his part, Max still couldn't believe that he'd managed to squarely beat his teacher in combat. Sure it was sparring yet it had all the potential fierceness in a real fight. It seemed that Dengry had trained Max well. The SwordMaster had not been holding back much, if anything.

After Dengry's student had calmed down, he rushed over to where his teacher was lying, sudden worry lining his face. "Master Delacan, are you all right?"

Despite the lingering pain, his teacher smirked with some effort. "Never mind that my student. It is nothing, besides, I did ask to see the whole of your skill. Master Kobusha would have been proud of you." He took a deep breath, then said wryly, "I guess I have to thank you for not kneeing me in the privates." He let out a slightly strained chuckle at seeing Max's face turn red.

"Well, ah, it was only a spar, and -"

Dengry cut him off. "Yes, this time. But do promise your old teacher that when the time comes, you will do whatever is necessary to win a fight in real combat?"

Max's sharp blue eyes met Dengry's hard, cobalt orbs. After a few seconds of silence, Max simply nodded in affirmation. "Yes, Master Delacan, I will." He stated with absolute seriousness and understanding.

Grunting in satisfaction, the old SwordsMaster pulled himself to a sitting position, wincing a bit at the strain of his abdomen muscles. He held a hand out to his student, who grabbed it and helped pull him up.

They were about to leave the clearing when Dengry abruptly snapped his fingers. "Oh that's right, I nearly forgot. Max, hold on a second."

The younger man turned questioningly to his teacher. With a faint smile, Dengry reached in his tunic. He pulled out a thin white envelope, embossed with the SwordMaster's personal seal, and his signature. Grinning again, he handed it out to Max. "As I promised," he said, "and you have well earned it. Well done, Max. My recommendation."

Max's smile threatened to take in his face. Reverently, he carefully reached out and took it. Too happy for words, he could barely contain his joy. His long awaited dream was just over the horizon, and Max couldn't wait.

"Guardiana Martial Academy, here I come!" exclaimed Max happily

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There were a few things Max had to resolve first before he could leave for the Academy. It was the day after Dengry's test, and at the moment, he and Adam were in his room, going over Max's agenda. The young fighter had wanted to tie up any loose ends today before leaving for Alterone tomorrow.

"Clothes packed, food supplies gathered and packed, healing herbs packed. Adam, briefly review our travelling plans, will you?"

The EMAM nodded in compliance. "We shall travel on foot towards the city of Alterone, which is attainable within a days' worth of walking. The odds of encountering peril along the way are minimal, due to regular Alterone's army patrols that extend a fair distance from the city itself. Between Master Max's skill with his weapons and my self defense mechanism, we should be able to handle any ill-mannered being that we encounter."

Max nodded in agreement, then asked, "Wait, what 'self defense mechanism?' You never mentioned that before. Can you show me?" The last part of the question was asked with a bit of excitement and interest.

Adam turned toward his young Master and remarked in a sarcastic tone of voice, "It wouldn't be a self-defense mechanism if I could activate it at will, wouldn't it?" Max blushed in embarrassment and a bit of anger at the robot's tone, then glared at Adam.

"How do I know that your 'self defense mechanism' is reliable enough to help in a fight and how come you never informed me or Gramps about it?" Max asked irritatedly.

If a robot would have smirked, Adam sure would have. "Master Max, just suffice it to say that I have the ability to generate electricity and utilize it as a sort of energy projectile that can electrocute an organic being into unconsciousness. And as for your second question, you did not inquire about my self-defense mechanism."

Max began to fume at the robot's smug reply but then he was stopped short by the mention of an unfamiliar term. "Electocute? What does that mean?"

Adam let out a sigh. Truly this culture and it's technology level was quite primitive compared to his own. "If we have the unfortunate timing to encounter a hostile, then I shall willingly exhibit my self defense mechanisms' abilities."

Already tired of the current topic, Max just waved his hand at Adam and told him to continue where he had left off. As if he had never been off track, Adam began reciting again.

"From Alterone, we shall endeavor to find a larger group of travelers, preferably a caravan, to journey with on the way to Guardiana. The distance between Alterone and Guardiana will approximately require 6.5 days to complete. There shall be considerably more dangers and hostiles, therefore it shall be less hazardous with more traveling companions along for increased security and safety. Once at Guardiana, Master Max shall attempt to register his enrollment at a convenient time."

The robot paused, waiting to see if Max wanted to add something. When he didn't, Adam addressed his young Master.

"Master Max, what are your plans for today?"

Thinking a bit, Max replied, "Well, I have some unfinished business with Rict Baln. After that, I gotta stop at Master Delacan's place. He wanted to give me a gift or something. After that, I'm pretty much done after that."

"Very well, I shall await your return."

"See you in a bit Adam." Max called as he sauntered out the door, whistling contentedly.

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"GONE?! Where did he go!?" exclaimed Kokichi's grandson in surprise.

Rict's mother Helena looked at the young man with some of her own surprise. "Why, I don't know myself," she admitted, "but around two weeks ago, one morning he didn't come for breakfast. When I went up to get him, all I found was a note which said that he was sorry for leaving so suddenly, but he had to go find his own way in life. He apologized for not telling me in person, but a kind of wanderlust had been building up within him for some time. Just like his father." Helena sighed as past memories surfaced in her thoughts.

"Um, okay, I see. Well, Mrs. Baln, I guess I'll be leaving now. Take care." As silently as he could, Max left the older woman standing in the doorway of her house, lost in her memories. He mumbled under his breath, "Thank god Rict doesn't tell her the details of his fights, otherwise she would've killed me right there. Shrugging uneasily yet gratefully at the same time, Max walked along the path that led to Dengry Delacan's home.

Some five minutes later, he stood in front of his teacher's door and knocked. A voice, his master's, yelled from within, "Come in! It's open!"

Max opened the door and entered his teacher's house. He reflected that it was one of the very few times that he'd ever done so. Master Delacan's house was actually pretty small, consisting of only one bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room. Everything was neat, clean, and in proper order. There wasn't a speck of dust to be found. Mostly all of his material possessions could be found in the living room, which were mainly some books on war, strategy, politics, and history, as well as some differing types of swords and pieces of armor.

Dengry stood there in the middle of the living room, holding a sheathed sword with both of his hands. He nodded at Max as his student entered the house, then suddenly tossed the sword at him. Without blinking an eye, due to his usual reaction speed, Max quickly grabbed the weapon in both hands, one smoothly grasping the hilt and the other getting a hold of the scabbard. Max's eyes widened in surprise as he glanced at the sword, then at his teacher. He suddenly had a hard time speaking.

"Is....is this your gift to me, Master Delacan?" Max squeaked, a little bit confused.

His teacher replied evenly, "Take it out. Inspect it."

Silently complying, the younger man did so. His eyes widened yet again, this time in total surprise. Although not a fancy looking weapon, it had a simple, yet elegant appearance. At almost three and a half feet in length and four inches wide, the blade was shined to mirror-like quality. The hilt was crafted with finely cut, dried leather bands wrapped firmly and tightly around a well polished steel base. Hefting the sword experimentally, Max could feel that it weighed somewhat less than what he expected of a blade this size. He put it into a series of shortened cuts and thrusts, marveling at the feel of a real sword, his first real sword in his hand.

Smiling faintly, with a look of satisfaction in his eyes, Dengry spoke, "It looks good on you. Carry it well, my student. I expect that you will make me proud."

Throwing a grin of thanks at him, Max held the blade before his eyes, taking in its shiny length. "Without a doubt," he whispered, still in awe and disbelief.

"Without a doubt."

End Chapter 3

Rough Draft completed: October 12, 2004

Preliminary Editing: October 12, 2004

Sorry about taking so long for this chapter, final exams hit the author with the force of a freight train. Damn beastly things, truly beastly. But anyways thank god they're all done, and so another chapter is finished! Yay!

About the sword fighting scenes. I had some inspiration from R.A. Salvatore's Drizzt (Forgotten Realms) books. Not knowing how to sword fight myself, it took me a while to try and visualize the combat flow. I also researched on the Internet about some sword stances, both offensive and defensive, and other things I needed to know.

Let me know how this chapter turned out. It's even a lot more unsure, in my opinion, so please review if you have the chance!

Darksoar


	4. Distant Realities Chapter 4

Disclaimer:  
echo off  
echo Disclaimer starting now.  
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echo Shining Force is not mine, nor will it ever be! But I DO wish  
echo otherwise.  
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Cls  
  
An Alternate Shining Force story  
Distant Realities  
By Darksoar  
Chapter Four  
  
Two Nights Ago:  
  
It was a cold and chilly night, with a strong bright moonlight shining down on the forested area and plains. The breeze was soft, yet it easily sent a shiver up Lieutenant Calbridge's spine. He grasped his lance tighter and listened carefully, trying to detect if he wasn't alone.  
  
The centaur Knight was in the midst of a thick forest, though in the middle the trees were a bit sparser the edges were nicely bunched with enough vegetation that it was too dense to see through. In spite of this, the young knight was feeling very nervous, yet eager. But he was becoming worried and impatient. It was his damn guard duty shift in thirty minutes; he was cutting it dangerously close as it was already. Where was hell was his 'contact'? he fumed silently.  
  
His keen hearing suddenly caught the soft sounds of someone carefully making his way through the forest and towards his current position. The timing of the footsteps told him that it was human, or at least a bipedal. That didn't mean anything, and Lt. Calbridge was a wary individual by nature. Tensing, he set himself into a ready position and aimed his bronze lance in the general direction of the approaching footsteps, ready to attack at any second.  
  
Then the footsteps stopped and a tall, dark robed figure stepped out from behind a tree. It was hooded and the only part that was visible was the mouth and the chin.  
  
"Lower your weapon fool, it is only me," hissed his contact. "I come alone, as agreed upon by our arrangement, as well as completely unarmed."  
  
Scowling at the man, though he probably couldn't see it due to the darkened shadows of the forest, Calbridge held his weapon sideways across his armored chest. Even after dealing with this person for nearly a year, the centaur didn't dare leave himself wide open around him.  
  
"What took you so long? I'm due for my shift in almost half an hour," said Calbridge in a low, sharp tone. Then he suddenly remembered what they were supposed to meet for and changed tact immediately. "So, do you have the instructions and my advance payment?" He asked with greedy anticipation.  
  
The contact's mouth lifted up in a mocking half smirk. "Well, well, the little horsey wants to get on with business, does he?" The centaur gritted his teeth at the insult, but restrained himself with an effort. Time was of the essence here and was swiftly running out.  
  
Shrugging slightly at the lack of response, the robed man reached into the folds of his clothing and brought out two leather bags. One was bigger than the other and looked as if contained small, multiple edged objects. Despite the time pressure, Calbridge grinned as he reached out to receive both of them.  
  
"Now Lieutenant, here is your advance payment as you insisted, 50 Circlets. The rest shall make its way to you upon completion of the task. Here is the item. The instructions of what you are supposed to do with it are within the sack." The robed man didn't need to tell Calbridge to be careful; it was the grounds on which their relationship stood upon.  
  
As the centaur Knight tied both sacks to his waist and secured them, his accomplice leaned in close and said in a whisper, "Now then, the item needs to be washed or bathed within the blood of a dedicated, strong willed leader. After many hours of pondering this, I have found a most capable individual who will serve our needs perfectly." He beckoned the Lieutenant closer and whispered a single name into his ear.  
  
The centaur had no change of expression, his face stiff and cold, as emotional as a statue. Throughout the entire business relationship he had with this mystery man (though he didn't care one way or the other), he didn't pay much attention to the consequences of the acts he had been hired to perform. His only primary concern was the monetary angle and of course not being caught.  
  
The two conspirators swiftly departed from the other's company. Lt. Calbridge donned the enchanted cloak given to him earlier by his accomplice for such meetings. It erased him from any sight, whether physical, magical or any other. It also dampened any sound he made, and it made his secret meetings much easier to attend. He quickly made his way through the forest, heading back towards the castle.  
  
Lt. Calbridge had been wonderfully and expensively paid for his private services. Although just reaching his 30s, his enthusiasm for life, open honesty, optimism and everything that defined youth had mostly vanished. Gone and replaced by an immense greed, cynicism, bitterness, and a chilly indifference.  
  
Just a tiny bit of a conscience remained though, to rage against futilely at the heinous act he was about to commit.  
  
Now:  
  
Amner Beldon, King of Guardiana, leaned forward in his throne, a look of worry and apprehension marring his dignified countenance.  
  
"Are you sure about this, Captain Varios?" The aged monarch asked the head of the Guardiana Knights. The King had just received disturbing news from the centaur officer. Apparently, a farmer who lived on the outlying fields had spotted a good-sized band of unknown soldiers heading towards the outer boundaries of the kingdom. Sensing that they might be trouble, he had killed his only horse in order to pass the news to the nearest patrol.  
  
"Positive, your Majesty. Private Malinsky came straight to me, sparing no time at all. He is not sure, but the patrol saw what they believe were several centaur Knights from Runefaust among this group. It could be a prelude to an invasion; maybe a scouting party. But the situation doesn't feel like it. As it stands, might I ask your permission to attend this matter with my daughter and other soldiers as reinforcements?" Varios's hard, lined face showed no exaggeration as he stood at attention, head slightly inclined in respect to his liege. He'd been with King Beldon for his entire career, ever since he was a squire. The captain was one of the few military officers that the king instinctively and totally trusted.  
  
Without wasting a further second because of the threat of an unknown source was nearing every second, the monarch of Guardiana simply stated, "Granted. Captain Varios, I command that you capture the leader of these vagabonds so that we might discover their exact purpose and also that of Runefausts', if they are indeed connected. You are dismissed, and good luck."  
  
Bowing gracefully, Captain Varios took his leave and quickly trotted away, his hooves echoing faintly on the polished marble floor. As he exited the king's audience chamber, his daughter Mae, who had been waiting for him outside, fell in step beside him. In a proper and formal tone of voice, she asked, "What are his Majesty's commands, Captain?"  
  
Regarding his beautiful daughter (who looked so much like his dear departed wife), Varios's old, experienced green eyes met Mae's youthful, disciplined blue ones. "Go assemble your fellow graduates from the Academy. They, along with Sgt. RockHammer, will be the command crew." As if anticipating his daughter's protest, he turned a stern frown on her. "That is an order, Corporal!"  
  
"I know you have reservations about them going into danger," he continued in a more lenient manner, "but you must admit, even though you were top of your class, they weren't too far behind. Especially that man from the east, Musashi Yojimbo. He was second to you wasn't he?" Seeing the look of reluctant acceptance on her youthful features, Varios quickly commanded, "Now go and assemble them and meet me at the front gate in fifteen minutes. Hup to it!"  
  
Mae crisply saluted her superior and galloped off to find her classmates. She knew where she could find the majority of them. Luke and Musashi were most probably sparring against each other in the training grounds. Most likely they would have a good idea where the rest of group were.  
  
Steel clashed upon steel as grunts filled the air. Two young men strove to overcome the other as they wielded live steel on the training grounds. To anyone who didn't know the two combatants who have thought they were having a duel; however this was not the case. To both of them, a human from the east and a dwarf from the north, this was considered a light spar.  
  
Musashi Yojimbo used the advantage of his superior height and reach to rain attacks down onto his sparring partner. Luke Fremount used his lower center of gravity and the strength that all dwarves had to easily batter aside the attacks and strike at Musashi's lower body. Skill without being taken into consideration, it was basically a fight between fast and agile in opposition to strong and enduring.  
  
Using a long sword, Musashi brought it down on the dwarf's head. Luke immediately raised his shield over his head and lowered his neck a bit, letting his strong left forearm take the force of the blow. Without even wincing at the shock, the hardy warrior shrugged it off his shield and swiped at Musashi's midsection simultaneously.  
  
Amazingly, Musashi, knowing that he couldn't bring his sword back in time to defend, flexed his legs and threw himself into the fastest and highest backflip he could manage. While still in midair, Musashi could feel the breeze Luke's middle sword made as it barely brushed by his rear end as he swiftly rotated in the air.  
  
Landing squarely on his heels a foot more away from his dwarf friend, the human reflexively and quickly threw himself into a back roll. He came up in a defensive stance, blade held with both hands out horizontally before his chest.  
  
"Show-off," huffed Luke, bringing his shield to the left side of his body and laying his sword edgewise on his right shoulder. Grinning at his fellow Guardiana Martial Academy graduate and friend, Musashi merely shrugged nonchalantly. Speaking in a slightly halting and accented, low pitched tone, he remarked, "My friend, this one is sure that Fremount-san would be acted beyond proper sparring if certain woman wizard watching." He gave a short bow and smirked at the dwarf.  
  
Luke just snorted. "Feh, count'cha blessings Tao is in town. She would'a cer'ainly fried yer ass with 'er Blaze spell." The young dwarf idly scratched an itch on his neck with the point of his middle sword, then abruptly clanged the flat of the blade on his shield. "Well whut are we waitin' for! Let's get 'da show on 'da damn road!" He roared. Talking while there should be fighting had never been a strong trait of any dwarf, after all.  
  
Bowing in respect to his friend, Musashi shifted his balance to accommodate an attack. He moved his sword so the hilt was against his right hip and the blade was held horizontally, facing away from his body. A quick shuffle of his feet was a prelude to a forthcoming dashing attack when-  
  
"Hold it! Privates First Class Fremont and Yojimbo! Attention!"  
  
"Ah' great, not agayin!" Luke groaned as he turned and saw Mae quickly galloping towards them. "This one agrees. Why Mae-san always pick not good time to interrupt much fun training hour?" Musashi muttered in annoyance as he put up his sword. But complaint or not, she was their superior by rank. In accordance with four years of military training, they sheathed their weapons and followed as ordered.  
  
Although she was a stickler for military protocol and was a bit of a disciplinarian, Mae was actually a caring and warm person at heart. She considered Musashi and Luke two of her closest male friends. Outside of military affairs, that is.  
  
Coming to a halt before them, her strict face relaxed slightly as she saw them standing at perfect attention. She would never admit to the both of them, but whenever the two goofballs would practice military protocol to the letter, she would feel proud of them. Inwardly sighing, she thought, here it comes. Why can't they always be this serious? "At ease," she then announced, succumbing to the inevitable.  
  
Instantly, both men completely relaxed their bodies and did their expected, though always unpredictable actions. Luke enthusiastically dug into the inside of his left nostril and looking at the sky, while simultaneously vigorously attacking a suddenly itchy spot on his behind. On the other hand, Musashi leaned his head to the left, crossed his eyes, stuck out his tongue, and blew a raspberry, looking like some poor patient in a mental ward.  
  
When they didn't see a hint of amusement in her eyes, the two friends ceased their antics, albeit disappointedly, and assumed more normal poses. Not wasting a second longer, Captain Varios's daughter began speaking.  
  
"I want both of you to gather your gear and weapons. Musashi, please go find and gather the other girls. Luke, I want you to go to the Royal Stables and give this writ," she dug into her pouch and produced said document, "to the caretaker. Tell him to prepare eight horses as soon as possible. When that is done, take the horses to the Main gate. Captain Varios and I will be waiting." Without even waiting to dismiss them, she turned around and started galloping away.  
  
Blinking at the orders fired at them, Musashi and Luke called out at the same time, "Where are we going?" When no answer came back from the retreating figure of Mae, they shrugged at each other then immediately turned in different directions to carry out their instructions.  
  
But before they got out of earshot range of each other, Luke grumbled, "Dam', d' lass didn' even twitch a lip! Ther' goes fail're number fift'ee se'fhen!"  
  
Shouting in response to the dwarf's lament, Musashi yelled, "Not to become not unworried, always is next time!"  
  
Luke's answer floated over the distance, "Darn'd dat's what ye always say!"  
  
After being rudely interrupted from an impromptu shopping expedition, Tao and her two friends, Dianne and Khris had graciously decided to let Musashi live. That was due to a timely stammered explanation, accompanied by a panicky waving of arms in a futile attempt to ward off a verily pissed off Tao, who had the beginnings of a potent Blaze spell in her palm. Even as they rode to the rendevous with the patrol, Musashi had set a little more space between him and the wizard than normal, still fearing make his presence known around her. He was shivering slightly from the memory of the ultimate fury in her eyes.  
  
After the three women and two men had gone to the Main gate, they found Captain Varios, his daughter, and Sergeant Gort awaiting them. The captain had explained the situation to them, and so they had immediately started riding towards the rendezvous point.  
  
Riding beside her father, Mae could barely keep feelings of great worry inside of her. It wasn't for herself, but rather for her five classmates. It wasn't that they were incompetent, or incapable. All of them had seen combat before, in one way or another. She tried to come to terms with it by running their qualifications through her head.  
  
Musashi Yojimbo was from a quiet little village far east of Guardiana. Already a skilled swordsman when he had initially enrolled in the Academy, his years there had only made him into a fiercer warrior. When their class had graduated, he was in second to her in terms of overall G.P.A. Privately, Mae felt that he was a better weapons user than she was. He had often hinted to only Luke and Mae that when he felt that he was ready, he would take his leave and go back home. Mae had gotten the impression that something important was waiting for him there.  
  
She then shifted her eye to the left to catch a glimpse of Musashi's best friend and fellow-joker-in-arms, Luke Fremount. Young for a dwarf, in human terms he was actually fifty years of age! Having lived amongst the stone toughened and hard working mountain dwarves of the north for most of his life, he had come to Guardiana for a change in scenery. His favored weapon was the battle-axe, though he was also training with a sword as a backup weapon.  
  
Mae then regarded the mage Tao Liriya. Rumored to be Queen Anri's match in magical combat, the red-haired beautiful female elf was very outspoken and energetic. She had no problems speaking her mind, a trait that Mae could respect. Coming from a long line of mages and wizards, Tao had a lot to live up to. She had an older sister, named Aleah, who had been the prize pupil of the famous Otrant, who was the leader of Manarina, as well as a powerful seer.  
  
Unfortunately, through some unexplained cause, during an important trial, one of her more powerful spells had suddenly backfired horribly. In a spectacular explosion, Otrant was lucky to escape with his life, but Aleah had vanished in the conflagration. Despite many soul essence searches, even Otrant had failed in finding a trace of Tao's sister. Therefore, in dedication to her sister's memory, Tao was bound and determined to take up where her sister had left off.  
  
Her best friend, Khris, was originally from Alterone. She and Tao were a good example of attracting opposites. As Tao was energetic, enthusiastic, and fiery tempered, Khris was quiet, humble, and extremely patient. She was a Healer, her clerical skills well matched by her inner desire to help people in need, to care for them, and heal any sickness or injuries they might have. Her teachers had all remarked that she had a strong inner willpower that could very easily handle the stress of healing.  
  
The last one in the group, Dianne Durienthan, was also an Elf. She was a loner, always preferring to be by herself. More silent than Khris, Dianne was nevertheless aware of the social necessities. She was an independent sort, which complimented her occupation as a Ranger. A cross between a warrior, an archer, and a hunter, Dianne was always off exploring the woods and the plains. She was very respectful of the normal balance of nature, and was not merciful towards those who purposely disrupted it. Dianne didn't really speak of her past, or her reasons for joining the Academy, but Mae knew that she was someone you could trust to watch your back.  
  
Mae was brought out of her thoughts, when a sound of many hooves meeting hard ground reached her ears. The patrol had finally reached them. As they cantered to a stop, their commanding officer walked up to Captain Varios, saluted him, then spoke.  
  
"Sir, the strangers are heading directly towards the Gate of the Ancients. They are moving in with weapons drawn, from all looks, we can assume they have plans to the ill of Guardiana."  
  
Nodding curtly in reply, Mae's father responded, "Good job, Lieutenant Calbridge. Have you clarified those earlier reports that said there were any Knights of Runefaust among them?"  
  
"Yes sir, the current estimate of the enemy's forces is as follows: twelve Runefaust Knights, two Dark Mages, one High Priest, eight lizardmen, and six goblins." Calbridge smirked and then commented, "Too easy, if I say so myself, Captain Varios."  
  
His superior officer frowned at him disapprovingly. "Do not underestimate your opponent, Lieutenant. My instincts tell me these Runefaust mongrels are up to no good. Even though we outnumber them, the outcome is still not certain."  
  
Mae chimed in, "Captain, we all know that Runefaust has been getting aggressive and there's been rumors of Runefausts' monarch, King Ramladu hiring large amounts of mercenaries and subhumans. But why would they try our position? They should know that most of the southern kingdoms of Rune would certainly ally with us should Runefaust launch an attack."  
  
Shaking his head, her father replied, "I do not know, perhaps they want to attempt something with the Gate of the Ancients. Something dangerous that we must certainly stop." He then raised his voice, "Listen up people! From all accounts, the strangers appear hostile. Here's how we're going to play it. Tao will create a distraction by hitting them with one of her most powerful spells. In tandem with that, Dianne shall fire her arrows while riding. At the same time, the Knights will charge in. Is that all clear?" A unified, "Yes, Captain Varios!" sailed forth in reply.  
  
"We must make haste! We do not know what these bandits have in mind, but terrible woe may befall us all should they damage the seals placed on the Gate of the Ancients by our ancestors!" Varios ordered. No one bothered to ask what he meant by that. All of them had studied the history of Guardiana in the Academy and had read of a great, evil force that had been locked away so long ago.  
  
Mae's father looked around and selected one Knight. "Private Bell, quickly return to Guardiana, explain the full situation to the King, and come back with reinforcements. We will try and distract the Runefaust soldiers as best we can. Leave now!"  
  
The young centaur Knight saluted and immediately rode off. In seconds he could barely be seen through the amount of dust his hooves were kicking up.  
  
Before they could move on, Tao spoke up. "Captain, I have an idea which could improve our chances of a surprise attack that could, like, catch them totally off guard!" An excited gleam emanated from her eyes.  
  
Intrigued, but aware for the need of haste, Varios replied, "Tell me on the way, young mage. And now, onward! To the Gate of the Ancients!" Varios cried out, pointing his sword to the northeast. As one, the group of soldiers started a hurried gallop towards their destination.  
  
The Gate of the Ancients.  
  
It has been written down in history as one of Rune's most important places. All though over the ages details have been lost or blurred, in Guardiana it is a tale that everyone knows. From the smallest child to the oldest adult, it has been taught in the subjects in school and preached about it the church. It is regarded as a holy place, so holy in fact that no one can live near it.  
  
As legend states it:  
  
"The powers of darkness, led by Dark Dragon, fought for control of the world of Rune. Legendary warriors of light fought them with the ancient and modern weapons of the time, and drove Dark Dragon into another dimension. But Dark Dragon vowed that in 1,000 years, he would be able to break the inter-dimensional barrier, back into this world."  
  
In the kingdom of Runefaust, the sister of Guardiana, they have a similar shrine, one they call the Seal of Eternity. It has been told that together with the Gate of the Ancients they create a magical seal that holds back a great and evil force of darkness. Legend says that should both shrines be destroyed, the seal would be lost. Would that come to pass, Dark Dragon, who had been imprisoned within, would return enraged and utterly destroy and devastate whatever stood in its path.

The lizardman Selth C'rees hissed impatiently at the two Dark Mages and one High Priest as they glowed a faint, yellow-green and were mumbling under their breath. Before them was a massive wooden door, which was closed, though that was not the problem. The magic manipulating trio were attempting to dispel a powerful barrier spell that was placed around the entire Gate of the Ancients and originated at the entrance.  
  
Although they had been at it for roughly thirty minutes, Selth was growing increasingly uneasier with each passing minute. They didn't have that much time, the subhuman mercenary thought, until someone spotted them and reported it to the army of Guardiana!  
  
"Foolthh, it taketh them too longthh. Those Guarthianaths are bounthh to thhow upthh!" Selth complained as he gripped his battle-axe tighter and scanned the plains anxiously. His tail whipped to and fro jerkily, reflecting his inner mood.  
  
"Ignorant fool. Even with the enhanced magical energy gifted to them by King Ramladu, it is quite an obstacle to unlock. This barrier was created by nearly a hundred of the most powerful mages nearly ten centuries ago. But do not worry, C'rees, I believe that they are almost done Do not soil your undergarments." A cold, mocking voice echoed from within the Rune Knight Pavash, who was in charge of the operation. A centaur Knight who wore a complete suit of armor seemingly full time, no one really knew who what he looked like. However, everyone knew he was brutally efficient, merciless, and extremely loyal to King Ramladu, monarch of Runefaust.  
  
Selth sneered at him fearlessly. They could taunt and mock each other all day, but they were capable of working with each other competently. Even so, the lizardman retorted, "Foolithhh horthh! I am juthht warry of an attacthhk when we areth outhh in the open!"  
  
Pavash snorted. "Is not that your concern, gecko? My responsibility is to oversee the magic users and successfully accomplish our task! It is YOURS," he empathized by stabbing a finger at Selth, "to command your 'elite crew' and to support my troops in guarding against any force!" Sounding smug, he said, "So please, try and act like a proper, disciplined mercenary that you are not."  
  
"Besides," he added, "our backup is available at a moments notice, should we require it." He fingered his black colored lance, which he had custom made for himself, and turned away from Selth.  
  
The lizardman's green skin darkened to a darker shade of crimson as he struggled not to cut down the arrogant Rune Knight in anger. But then a sudden burst of light flashed from the closed door where the unsealing was taking place. Without another word, the two Dark Mages fainted and collapsed to the hard stone floor. The High Priest however, was made of sterner stuff, and just sank to his knees, breathing and sweating heavily. Between huge gulps of air, he managed a few words from his hoarse, dry throat.  
  
"It is done."  
  
Ignoring the High Priest's condition, Pavash walked towards the barred door. Upon close examination, the Rune Knight found that despite the age of the temple, the door was still sturdy and strong. He cursed and banged a gauntlet-armored fist on it forcefully. The door didn't even budge or vibrate.  
  
Noting the reaction from his superior, the High Priest answered his unspoken question, "The barrier possibly protected it from the ravages of time. That is why it appears unaffected by decay or weather or-"  
  
Cutting the lecture off, Pavash remarked sarcastically, "Quite the obstacle. It would take us more time to get through this with mundane means, time which we do not have. Very well, priest, do you have a convenient spell to open this minor obstacle or are you completely dry?"  
  
The High Priest had opened his mouth to reply when he started screaming as a hail of fire suddenly struck him from above. His entire body caught on fire quickly due to the magnitude of fire and he began panicking, trying to desperately roll the flames out. The two Mages on the floor beside him also caught suffered the same fate and awoke screaming in agony and pain.  
  
Yelping in surprise, the mercenary scrabbled to get out of range of the fire. Pavash had also quickly dashed away to avoid getting burned. Their minions were gaping in surprise at the unexpected event. Looking behind them, the Rune Knight saw a line of differently armored knights appearing out of thin air, charging towards them with lances lowered.  
  
"You fools, we are under attack! Behind you! Take battle positions! Lizardmen and goblins to the front!" He roared, brandishing his black lance. His men expertly followed his orders, while Selth's mercenary band organized themselves in response. "Whathh abouthh the magic uthherthh?" Selth asked, gazing at the still burning priest and mages.  
  
"No time for that. They have served their purpose." Showing as much emotion as an ice block, the cold-hearted knight quickly and efficiently skewered each victim through the heart. "Let us attend to the battle ahead of us."  
  
Looking at the unfortunate humans, Selth shrugged indifferently and rushed off to join his fellow lizardmen."Good shot Tao!" exclaimed Khris in congratulations and hugged her friend excitedly.  
  
The mage nodded, smiling despite being worn out by her spellcasting. It was really luck that the bandit's own spellcasters were too busy, or else they would have detected the limited invisibility spell she'd placed on her group. But it was that Blaze Level 2 spell that really taxed her. The distance had been much farther than she was used to.  
  
"Indeed mistress magic-san, truly impressive." Musashi patted her shoulder. He'd been stationed as a guard for the two girls, just in case there were some wandering bandits around.  
  
Looking at the two opposing groups about to collide, Tao pulled at Khris's sleeve. "You and Musashi go and help them, I'll be along in a while."  
  
Khris was about to protest but she knew that there were people who would need her healing abilities out in the battlefield. Thinking quickly, she came to a decision. "All three of us shall go," she declared and started chanting, "Clericus targen othyr elvsufen-"  
  
Blinking her eyes in confusion, Tao said, "Wait, what'd you mean by 'all three of us'?"  
  
"Heal!" Finished the healer as she pointed her hand, palm out, towards Tao, whose eyes suddenly widened in understanding. Musashi, for his part, just gripped his sword tightly and awaited the results of the spell.  
  
In an instant, the elven wizard felt new energy coursing through her body. It was as if she had woken up from a fitful rest. Grateful that she wouldn't be a liability, she bestowed a quick hug on Khris, then got to her feet. "C'mon guys, let's go get 'em!" She shouted and started jogging into battle, with Musashi and Khris barely a step behind.There were many things that could get adrenaline flowing through the system. Being frightened out of your wits, jumping over a chasm between two cliffs, asking a girl out for the first time, just to name a few.  
  
There is also being in the middle of battle.  
  
Grunting with effort, Mae deflected a lance with her shield. Her opponent, a Knight of Runefaust, leered at her as he retracted his weapon for another strike. But he was a fraction of a second too slow to block her thrust, which hammered against his left side. Although armored, he felt two ribs snap under the force of the blow. He was distracted enough to let his guard down for one single second.  
  
A single second that proved fatal as Mae's second thrust pierced him through the neck, nearly tearing his head off.  
  
Grimacing at the spraying blood, Mae yanked her lance free and found herself with no one to fight at the moment. She quickly surveyed the situation. Having been caught by surprise, the enemy bandits were getting the worst of it. Besides the three magic users who had experienced the Blaze Level 2 spell, two goblins had fallen due to Dianne's unerring archery.  
  
Worse for the enemy, the Guardiana force were extremely determined to destroy these foes. The Gates of the Ancients was considered a precious and a most holy place; they would do anything to keep it secure.  
  
Her father fought in the frontlines, along with the rest of the Guardiana knights, against a combined force of lizardmen and Runefaust knights. Luke, with his middle axe chopping and hacking, squared off against two goblins, while Dianne was taking potshots at the last one. Two were already dead, one beheaded by Luke and other with an arrow between the eyes. Another one had panicked and ran away, not wanting to face such formidable warriors as these.  
  
A death cry jerked her attention to the left. Needson, who had served for five years, was weakly clutching a blood spattered ebony lance that had penetrated through his platemail. Blood bubbled out of the fatal wound and ran down, staining his once shiny armor red. Mae tracked the weapon to its owner, a fully armored Runefaust Knight. By the design of his armor, she knew that he was the leader.  
  
Somehow feeling the weight of her stare, he cruelly yanked his lance out of Needson's chest and turned in her direction. The other Guardiana Knights looked furious, but couldn't afford to be further distracted from their own fights. Mae felt a cold fury that swelled within her.  
  
Pavash felt nothing, just wanting to get this latest annoyance out of his path. He aimed his ebony lance at the female Guardiana knight and spurred into a charge.  
  
The daughter of Varios raised her own weapon and answered the challenge, not the least bit afraid.  
  
The two knights, one from each side, thundered the other, closing the distance rapidly.  
  
Eight-seven-six-five-four-three-two-one-  
  
Zero feet.  
  
Impact.  
  
Somewhere a mile southeast of Alterone, two figures sat within a hastily constructed shelter.  
  
"I want to go home." Max grumbled half jokingly to Adam as he gazed out at the heavy rain.  
  
It had been nearly three hours since he and Adam had set out from Homesphere. The first two the weather was beautiful, all clear and shiny. The two of them had made good time, nearly covering almost half of the distance between Homesphere and Alterone.  
  
Unfortunately, multiple gray clouds had gathered in the horizon. Max had traveled to Alterone quite a number of times with either Kokichi or one of his teachers, so he had known what was forthcoming. Quickly leaving the path, Max had used his sword to cut branches off some trees and, by using rope and tarp, had assembled a decent shelter.  
  
It had been raining for almost four hours now. The rain had gotten so dense that visibility had dropped to only ten feet. Like a ceaseless, dull pounding of a drum, the rain kept falling. Despite the shelter, Max was nearly soaked to the skin. Kokichi's grandson didn't worry about Adam because the EMAM was watertight.  
  
Max hunched over in thought. He hoped the rain would stop by at least noon; that way they'd be able to reach Alterone by early nightfall. Max was already fantasizing about being dry and eating a tasty, hot stew at an inn.  
  
For the most part, their time on the trail was pretty non-eventful. They'd only passed by a few fellow travelers, who they'd greeted and passed on, but that was it. The world was dangerous enough as it is. He'd heard from the last person that they passed on the road that there were rumors of huge armies massing up north. Large mercenary bands, goblins, dark dwarves, orcs, ogres, and other types of subhumans were reported to have seen heading in that general direction.  
  
The rumors weren't verified, yet the news, although troubling, Max couldn't help but feel a bit excited. A war would test the skills he'd been painstakingly developing all the years of training. Daydreams and fantasies danced within Max's head. In most of them he became the leader of the armies of Guardiana, a champion for the people, and a hero that would be in history books for centuries afterward. He would be a blazing light that would dissipate the darkness, bring everlasting hope to the downtrodden, and utterly defeat the invading armies of the enemy.  
  
Dozens, no, hundreds of fans and admirers would flock to him! Max imagined the king of Guardiana himself knighting him and awarding him medal after medal. Tons of young women would compete fiercely to be his girlfriend! Max lost track of reality as he pursued his current line of thought.  
  
Noting the telltale signs of daydreaming, e.g. mouth slightly open, and eyes distant and a bit glazed over, Adam gave a sigh. His young Master was at it again. It seemed that whenever Max had some idle time, he would go off into his own world and be totally absorbed into it. He would be totally oblivious to the outside world. Adam just hoped that his younger Master would not continue doing that in the future. It just wouldn't help at all to do so, like say, in the middle of a pitched battle.  
  
Completely ignoring the weather, Adam, and anything else that was around him, the young fighter followed his dreams and where they took him.  
  
Both traveling companions were completely unaware that the entire future of Rune lay within a small skirmish within the boundaries of Guardiana.  
  
The rain continued to pour.  
  
End Chapter 4  
  
Rough Draft completed: October 20, 2004  
Preliminary editing: October 20, 2004  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Not as finely tuned as I would want it to be, nevertheless I'm sending it out as it is. Please C&C (for FFML) and R&R (for ).

A revised version of this chapter should be on the way soon. Chapter 5 is in the works!


	5. Distant Realities Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Shining Force will never be mine. How cruel life is.

An Alternate Shining Force story

Distant Realities:  
by Darksoar

Chapter Five

It was dark.

Black as pitched night.

And for the life of her, Mae was beyond confused. In fact, she couldn't fathom how she got there in the first place. What was worse, she didn't have any idea why she was there or what she was doing before. She was quite certain that something had happened to her, but she couldn't quite remember the specifics. The memory was there, she could sense it like a dull, lurking presence in the back of her mind. However, trying to get a hold of it was much like attempting to grasp air.

Looking around, she noticed that wherever she was, it wasn't one room or even one building. This dark place seemed to be endless in length. Mae couldn't help but pause at that thought. Was it possible she was the only living being in this place? Panic began to make its appearance when she considered that idea, but her military discipline firmly stomped it down. Forcing herself to relax, she looked down at her body.

All at once, two interesting things occurred to her simultaneously.

One, she could see her feet! Okay, well, make that her entire body. Lifting her hand up, she closely examined it. It seemed normal, except that her skin gleamed with a faint whitish glow. Mae voiced the first thing that popped up in her head when she saw it.

"Magic?" She wondered out loud. But almost immediately after, she decided against that hypothesis. "I'm a knight, not a mage," she declared firmly, glad to have at least remembered that. Mae blinked; how did she manage that? Perhaps... With an effort, she wracked her mind, trying to pull forth more memories. Then, when it seemed that she was going to develop a migraine, the blockage was pierced in a couple of place. When that happened, more memories came forth. She concentrated and finally called forth a ghostly image that she found familiar. A tall, red-haired attractive elf in robes, with a ready smile and an uplifting laugh. Mae had a strong feeling that she knew this person, but she couldn't quite grasp it.

Being a practical sort, she shoved it away for later contemplation, should she regain more of her memories in the future.

The second interesting thing was that she was in full armor. "Okay," she said, trying to make sense of it. "Normally I don't wear full armor everyday. The only times when I do are only when I'm training or going out on patrol."

At the word 'patrol', a flurry of images suddenly flashed through her mind. She saw a two relatively young men, one almost a foot and a half taller than the other, fiercely engaged in a sword fight. She suddenly remembered them: Musashi and Luke, two of her best friends from the Guardiana Academy.

Then came three girls, two close to each other and one standing off to the side. But yet all three seemed friendly towards each other. The tall, red-haired elf was back; Tao. A slightly shorter blonde with a gentle smile; Khris. Another elf, this one with a serious look on her face and a quiet, yet focused spirit; Dianne.

An older male centaur with a white beard, noble features, and a familiar face. He radiated love, honor, loyalty and duty. Father, Captain Varios. More images then appeared. Various different male centaurs, whom her rapidly returning memory recognized as members of a Guardiana patrol. With each image came with a name. Tarks, Gallen, Crez, Gaen, Parran, Needson . . .

With Needson's name brought a horrifying thing to view. It showed the private and a bigger, differently armored centaur with a black lance locked in mortal combat. It showed the young Knight being quickly overpowered by his enemy and suffered a fatal wound to his chest. Mae then saw herself challenging Needson's killer in a charge that ended in her being skewered through her armor.

Shocked, astonished, fearful and disbelief coursing through her, that memory proved too much for her. A frantic wail of denial burst forth from her mouth.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

She began crying for Needson and herself and for everyone she would never see again. She cried because she had no other way of dealing with what she remembered. She cried and realized that she hadn't done so ever since she was ten years old. She slowly crumpled to her knees and covered her tearing eyes with her gloved hands.

Mae didn't know how long she remained in that position, sobbing. What she did know was that when a soft, gentle hand laid itself lightly on her right shoulder, it startled her enough that she stopped sobbing. A strangely familiar female voice, presumably the owner of the hand, said in a soothing and comforting tone.

"Are you all right, Mae sweetie?"

Eyes suddenly widening, Mae turned her head and saw someone she thought she would never see again. This particular person had been one of two cornerstones in Mae's life. When she had abruptly disappeared, it had taken a long time for Mae to recover from that loss. In the barest hint of a whisper, the daughter of Varios asked one question in an unsteady voice.

"M-mo-momma?"

"This for Mae-san! I, Musashi Yojimbo kill you, bakemono!" (1)

An enraged Musashi, having seen Mae's opponent impale his weapon into her upper chest, leapt to engage Pavash. His horse had been slain by a thrown lance, so he challenged the leader of the Runefaust force on foot.

Surprised at the smaller man's speed, the Rune Knight hastily snapped his bloody lance up to block a head cut. He lifted the blunt end of the lance and jabbed it down towards the human's chest.

But clever Musashi had already spun around in a full circle, shifting his stance just so that end of the lance merely brushed by his mail shirt. He scored a solid hit on Pavash's right upper arm, yet due to the resilient armor could not penetrate.

Gritting his teeth against the pain generated by the impact, the Rune Knight backed away to gain more room. But Musashi followed him every step, thrusting and slicing aggressively.

For the warrior, he knew instinctively that the centaur was much physically stronger than he was. In addition, his enemy had the advantage of height and reach. Wielding a lance just further increased his range of attacks, so Musashi strove to stay close and keep him on the defensive. His only decisive leverage was his superior speed and his sword was the better weapon in close combat.

However, Pavash's full armor protected all his vital areas and decreased the chances of a fatal or distracting injury. Luckily, Musashi had sparred with Mae and other Guardiana Knights countless of times. Thus, he was knowledgeable on the correct way of fighting with a centaur, and his burning desire to avenge his dear friend drove him to a merciless flurry.

But the leader of the Runefaust forces was no stranger to combat himself. Pavash spun his lance clockwise and counterclockwise, whenever the situation called for it, neatly parrying every attack. He used the length of his weapon to swipe at his human opponent, forcing Musashi back several times.

While Musashi was engaging the apparent leader of the Runefaust force, Calbridge, who had been the closest one, had acted. Apparently fearing for Mae's life, he mercilessly attacked the lizardman he was fighting. The lieutenant deflected a slash so fiercely that his foe's sword had flown to the side, leaving him wide open. Instantly seizing the opportunity, Calbridge hoofed him between the legs. While the lizardman was bent over, moaning with pain, the centaur knight ended his misery with a final thrust through the chest.

Immediately withdrawing his weapon, he left his place in line and reached his subordinate's side as quickly as he could. Pulling a long, white towel from his belt with both hands, he wound it up and then applied it to her mortal wound. "Healer!" Calbridge shouted in the air, looking around frantically for Khris. At the same time, he placed a clenched hand under the reddenning cloth and rolled a small, silver ball around in the all too bloody part of Mae's chest.

"Healer!" Calbridge shouted again, and maneuvered the silver ball back into his closed hand. Seeing Khris dashing towards them on her horse from the corner of his eye, he withdrew his fist and slid it between the layers of the folded tower. His actions made it seem as if he had been applying pressure to the corporal's wound.

Khris never noticed his motions; her attention was completely on her friend. She was nearly frantic in her worry for the female centaur that she nearly fell off her horse in her haste. "Remove the cloth," she ordered tartly. When Calbridge had done so, her face went pale, but she did not lose control of herself at the overwhelming sight. Despite her young age, Khris was one of the more skilled healers in all of Guardiana.

Calbridge stood up and threw the bloodied cloth away. With a flat emotionless voice he stated, "I am going to kill that bastard." He retrieved his lance from where it lay and headed off in the direction of Pavash's duel with Musashi. In the heat of battle, no one saw him place something inside his belt pouch.

Meanwhile, Luke finished off his last goblin opponent and looked around. He saw Khris's vulnerable position and immediately guided his horse to her side. He stood guard, keeping a close watch and making sure she wasn't bothered. Upon seeing Mae's wound, he became deeply concerned, but he knew Khris would do everything in her power to save their favorite female centaur.

"Mae, please hang on, I'm right here," she begged, blocking out the sounds of the battle and then forced herself to clinically examine her friend's condition.

Mae was very near death's door. The Runefaust Knight's lance had penetrated her armor, impaled her in the upper right chest area, and exited out through her shoulder blade. Thankfully, it had just missed the lungs, but it had severed several arteries, snapped the collarbone in half, and fractured her shoulder blade. Khris had just barely avoided throwing up when she had seen how much blood was gushing from both ends. But one of her best friends was dying in front of her eyes. She would not allow that to happen! With great determination, she placed both of her hands over the injury and channeled her ability.

She started chanting the spell. "Clericus targen othyr centurus athan," she paused feeling the buildup of power within. "Heal!" she completed, releasing the energy directly into the wound.

Her hands started to a steady blue, and the wounded area also began to glow. Almost immediately, blood stopped spurting out. Torn muscles stretched out to each other and mended themselves back together again. The horrifying wound began to slowly close and get smaller. When it was less than a quarter of its original size, Khris came out of her healing trance, and the blue glow faded away. Luke looked at her and asked, "Are ya awl right, lass? Will d' corp'ral be fine?"

Perspiring due to the effort of healing Mae, Khris nodded. "Yes, she'll be fine, apart from being unconscious for a few days. I wish I could heal her fully, but others might need my help," she replied, feeling very drained. Healing Mae had taken a great deal of energy. Kneeling for a few seconds, she sought to recover some of her strength back. However, she knew instinctively that the other knights needed her help, so she rose to her feet slowly yet resolutely.

"Keep watch over her," she ordered the dwarf, though he didn't need to be told. Turning her attention to the battle in front of her, she got on her horse, seeking out her next patient.

This pest was trouble, admitted Pavash.

So far the Rune Knight was kept almost entirely on the defensive as this Musashi continuously attacked him. Though Pavash trusted his armor to keep him safe, he was not foolhardy enough to test it against his foe's sharp blade.

Long experienced in the ways of battle, Pavash knew that the human could not attack indefinitely. Sooner or later, he would slow down due to exhaustion and then he would be susceptible to Pavash's assault. A vengeful grin formed at the thought of slaying him and then finishing off the rest of the Guardiana fools.

However, luck was not on the Rune Knight's side today. As he jabbed repeatedly at Musashi, Pavash suddenly caught sight of a Guardiana knight striding purposely towards his battle with the human. Inwardly cursing, Pavash knew that he could not stand against the two of them at once. Hating the thought of retreating, but knowing it was necessary, Pavash quickly retreated, thrusting quickly with his black lance to keep the human back.

It was time.

Before Musashi could dash forward, Pavash held his blood stained weapon aloft in the air, visualized what he needed, and called out a single word.

"Evoke!"

In an instant, the tides turned.

In a shimmering of light from Pavash's black lance, reinforcements arrived. Twelve more Rune Knights, eight lizardmen, and a single Dark Mage appeared around the Runefaust commander. The odds had unexpectedly shifted in the Runefaust forces favor.

Captain Varios and his men, who had held the upper hand in the fight, were shocked and dismayed by the sudden turn of events. The remnants of Pavash's band, instead of renewing their efforts against their foes, unexpectedly turned and retreated towards their reinforcements. It was a wise decision for them, because out of twelve centaurs, four were dead and five others were seriously wounded. Only three of the lizardmen were still standing, and all of the goblins had been wiped out.

The Guardiana Knights knew better than to foolhardily chase after their enemies. By now, they had spotted the new arrivals and suspected some sort of magical teleportation. Things looked bleak for them at the moment.

Cursing soundly, the suddenly outnumbered Musashi turned around and started running back towards his companions. Calbridge had already started doing so. With a bloodthirsty cry, the Runefaust reinforcements surged forward.

Tao, seeing that Musashi and possibly the lieutenant would not make it back to their lines, knew that she had to buy them some time. Turning in the direction of the oncoming new arrivals, she muttered, "Mah zin tor ah pyre! Blaze Level Two!"

Just behind the retreating pair, a fiercely hot rain of fire fell from midair. It hit the ground and quickly burned into a wall of flame, feeding off the healthy grass. The pursuers were forced to halt their chase, else they be burned alive. The human and the centaur safely reached their companions and began getting their breath back.

Meanwhile, Khris was rapidly casting her Heal spell on the more seriously wounded. The other lightly injured took this short break to choke down the bitter tasting healing herbs every Knight carried with him. These, among other effects, lessened the pain, slowed the bleeding, and speeded up recovery of such injuries.

Lieutenant Calbridge addressed his superior. "Captain Varios, we should retreat! We are outnumbered!"

The captain had already reached a similar conclusion. He muttered under his breath, knowing that he had less than a minute to make a decision before Tao's spell dissipated completely. It would take the reinforcements too long reach them before they were annihilated. Swearing, he addressed his troops, "Men, against all proper logic, I am NOT ordering a full retreat!" None of the Knights said anything; they had expected such a type of command from him.

Abruptly heartened by the lack of protests or by the lack of shocked disbelief on any face, Varios continued. "As I said before, all of you know well as I do the dangerous risk of leaving the Gates of the Ancient to these invaders. Though I do not know the specifics, I do know that abandoning the Gates will be the greatest and possibly the last mistake that the world Of Rune will ever know. I do no intend for that to happen, not on my watch!"

Several grunted agreements made themselves known from the Knights. Motivated by a fierce sense of honor and duty, Mae's father balled his left hand into a fist and slammed the butt of his lance into the ground forcefully.

"Our primary duty as Knights of Guardiana is to protect the land and the lives of Guardiana's citizens. Today, we shall fulfill that duty to it's finest! Though we may be outnumbered, though we may perish on the field, we must keep them Runefaust bastards from fouling this holy shrine with their vulgar hands. We must fight on, fight on till our last breath, to prevent a possible Apocalypse! ARE YOU WITH ME!?" Varios lifted his lance in the air, trying to rally his men.

A split second of silence followed, then...

Luke swung his middle-axe in a arc above his head and shouted, "FOR GUARDIANA!"

Everyone else followed his example by raising their respective weapons in the air. "FOR GUARDIANA!"

Musashi held his sword aloft vertically. "FOR THE KING!"

"FOR THE KING!"

As one, the Guardiana soldiers formed a single line, chanting an old battle hymn to lift their spirits. Varios narrowed his eyes, regarding the enemy line. Turning his attention to Tao and Khris, he quickly spoke in a hard, determined, not-to-be-questioned tone of voice. The tone of command.

"You two, I want to fall back. It will be extremely confusing and dangerous once we hit them, so you won't have any time to heal or do magic. I know you want to fight with your friends, but I have a personal request." Waiting for their nod, he continued.

"Watch over my daughter as best you can, and as long as possible. Wait for our reinforcements to arrive, they should be here in the next half-hour or possibly earlier. I feel it in my gut. Are my orders clear?"

Clearing their faces of any protest, both of them snapped a decent approximation of a salute, their faces full of grim determination. Without a word, they surrendered their horses to Musashi and Dianne, both who had lost their own earlier. Nodding partly in relief and partly in resignation, he snuck a quick glance at his unconscious daughter.

'I will see you again, my child, I swear it,' he thought with a father's passion.

With that, the captain turned to face the enemy line. Sensing the tensed anticipation of all his men, he pointed his lance forward and shouted, "CHARGE!"

With their weapons at the ready, they dashed towards their enemy.

"What are those fools doing? They can't be charging!"

"Wellthh, theythh wanthh a quickethh deathhh letth uthh obligthh themm," suggested C'rees as a eager gleam for battle filled his eyes. Nodding in reply, Pavash said, "Let us answer their last moments of life. Soldiers of Runefaust, CRUSH THEM!"

The combined force of centaurs and lizardmen responded to the order and dashed towards the incoming Guardiana company.

On her horse, the world seemed to slow down for Dianne. A superb marksman, she was well acquainted with archery on horseback. The constant minor jarring from her running horse did little to decrease her accuracy.

Knowing that her arrows would do little harm to the Runefaust knights, she concentrated on the lizardmen. One had already fallen from his horse with an arrow in his chest. Nocking another of the wooden shafts, she focused in on her second target. Sighting along the arrow, the elf Ranger allowed adjustment for the jolting and let fly.

The arrow covered the distance from the elf to her green-skinned target in a split second. With a death wail, the lizardman clutched uselessly at the shaft suddenly protruding smack in the middle of his forehead. Letting go of the reins, he fell gracelessly off his horse, only to be mercilessly trampled by a uncaring Runefaust Knight.

Making some rapid mental calculations, the elf Ranger judged that there was enough distance remaining for one more shot. As she quickly fitted an arrow to her long bow, one of the lizardmen decided to retaliate. He reached into his weapon belt and withdrew a hatchet. Taking only a second to aim, he cocked his arm back and threw it at her.

The small throwing axe tumbled end over end in a blinding whirl as it flew towards the female elf, directly on target.

Reacting quicker than practically anyone else could, Dianne shifted her aim slightly and fired. Incredibly, her missile flew directly towards the whirling hatchet. As a rotation of the small axe was about to complete, with the bladed end upright, the arrow struck the wooden handle and instantly shattered it. This new force deflected the hatchet from its present course and caused it to fly harmlessly to the side.

While that was happening, Dianne had already fired a second arrow towards the axe thrower. He tried to dodge it, but unfortunately his reflexes weren't as fast as Dianne's. The lizardman was propelled backwards off his saddle, struck squarely in the side.

A small grin made an appearance on Dianne's face as she briefly acknowledged that first impossible shot she had made. But that didn't last long because the two opposing lines were about to collide with each other. Tossing her bow away behind her, she drew her short sword and readied herself.

With a loud crunching of metal and screams of sudden pain and death, the two opposing forces crashed into each other. Riders were thrown off their horses, centaurs knocked each other down, and general chaos ensued.

Getting to his feet after being knocked off his horse, Luke hefted his axe in his hands as he looked around in the confusion of the battle. He spotted a lone Runefaust knight about to deal a deathblow to a downed Guardiana centaur, who was bleeding from a chest wound profusely. With an outraged roar, the hardy dwarf's muscled legs pumped hard and he swung his axe low.

With a loud, pained oath, the Runefaust knight felt the thick axe blade cut through the armor and completely shear off his left hind leg. The loss of that one limb sent him collapsing to the grass, leaving him in shock as he felt his lifeblood gush out from his stump. Then he felt nothing at all when a second swing beheaded him.

"Err, laddie, ye awl right? Ye gotta be quick and take yer 'ealing 'erb." Luke spared a look for the young centaur as he stood guard over him.

But his temporary charge gazed at his rescuer and smiled one last smile. "Th-thank you...Sir," he managed to gasp out before dying from a pierced lung.

War was cruel and unkind.

Luke snarled viciously, then prepared to take out his fury on those who deserved it.

After scanning the battle around him, he'd found a convenient perfect punching bag. The dwarf warrior spotted a lizardman who wore the colors of a commanding officer. He was locked in fierce combat with a Guardiana Knight, whose name was Gallen.

What Gallen didn't know was that two more lizardmen were coming up quickly on his blind side.

Luke grinned in a way that, should any foe see it, would have made them think twice before crossing the formidable dwarf. He loved a challenge.

In a single, reckless move, Luke threw his axe with all his might and then began running toward Gallen's position. One of the unsuspecting lizardmen turned his head to the side just in time to see the axe before it nailed him squarely in the face. His fellow lizardman just looked dumbly at the sudden death of his friend and was suddenly tackled to the ground by two hundred and sixty pounds of warrior dwarf.

His face locked in a sincere grin, Luke pummeled away eagerly at the lizardman's face with his mailed fists. Said foe could not bear the raw strength of the dwarf's blows and was soon unconscious. His blood pounding, the dwarf snatched the lizardman's sword from his hand and drove into the chest up to the hilt.

Seeing that Gallen could take care of himself, Luke stood up and went to retrieve his weapon. With a loud (and sickening) crack of bone, the young dwarf yanked it free and looked for his next foe.

Corporal Gallen was in the hardest battle of his young life. The lizardman he was facing was very skilled, as well as faster and trickier than any other of his kind the centaur had the misfortune to meet. It was a good thing that Gallen had drilled much harder in weapons use than any of the other centaur Knights stationed at Guardiana. It was the only thing keeping him alive against the fearsome axe of his opponent.

"Selth C'reess will kill youthh quickethh, no worrietthh aboutthh thathh," mocked the lizardmen commander as he feinted a head swipe then turned it into a descending chop. Corporal Gallen smacked it aside with his lance, then leapt up and bent his forelegs so that the axe barely missed them as it passed through the open space. Using the extra force given to him by gravity, the centaur landed on his hooves with his lance jabbing downwards.

Selth, already recovered from his first attack, saw him coming down and jumped back, whisking away his tail from getting shorn off. Then he stepped forward and swung his axe into a series of quick and tight swings, aiming for the upper body of the centaur.

However, Gallen neatly deflected every attack as he worked his lance before him skillfully. Quick stepping backwards, the Guardiana Knight began thrusting and feinting at C'rees, using the increased distance to effectively counter attack.

Taken by surprise at the change of tactics, Selth C'rees barely dodged one of the thrusts. Instead of tearing through his upper arm, he received a shallow gash. Growling in fury, Selth leaped forward and swung his weapon.

Gallen's eyes widened as he hastily brought his lance up to block the unexpected attack. A loud metallic clang sounded as the thick middle of the sturdy lance withstood the cleaving force of the axe. However, the centaur's defense wasn't fully in place. The swing of the axe overcame the lance's stable position. The remaining momentum was enough for the axe to knock the lance away and cut through armor, skin, and muscle of Gallen's right arm.

As blood spurted from the wound, Gallen cried out in agony. It seemed like a thousand bees were stinging him there at the same time. Although his arm dangled uselessly, he managed to keep enough of a presence of mind to keep a hold on his lance with the other. He quickly backed off, knowing that the lizardman would rush him. It looked extremely bad for him, because he couldn't use his weapon effectively with only one hand. Fear for his mortality gripped him, freezing him on the spot.

Grinning cruelly at his huge advantage, Selth dashed in for the kill, axe raised over his shoulder. He never noticed someone else's presence behind him until it was too late.

Musashi and Dianne were fighting back to back, guarding each other's blind areas. They had lost their borrowed horses (yet again) and were forced to fight on foot. A Runefaust Knight lay dead at their feet, but both man and female elf had a number of small wounds. It was only a matter of time before fatigue and exhaustion caught up with them.

Things did not look good. Musashi was facing off against a Runefaust Knight and Dianne had to deal with two lizardmen. Worse for the two, they had fought a battle already, while their opponents were relatively fresh.

As good with a blade Musashi was, his opponent was proving to be a handful. The Runefaust Knight was armed with a long sword and was on the defensive. The swordsman hacked and jabbed, but the centaur's parrying kept him alive. Musashi pressed on however, knowing that he would get through eventually.

Dianne was kept on her toes by the constant assualt by both of the lizardmen she faced. Although certainly she was better in swordplay than any of the lizardmen, she was pressed hard by this efficient double team. She knocked a low thrust away, then on the return barely parried a slice.

Sweating heavily, the elf Ranger knew that she couldn't rely on Musashi for help. He was occupied with his own problems. She realized that she would have to somehow win this by herself.

A downward parry saved her leg from being slashed through; then her sword fanned left to right deflected a stab to the heart. Dianne continued to work furiously, turning aside strike after strike. Her arms began to ache; she knew that she could not keep up this pace for long. She would have to do something quick before her stamina ran out. And that something would have to be very brilliant.

The lizardmen then fell into a conventional pattern. Where one's attack ended, the other's begun. Seeing that this was a the chance she was looking for, Dianne quickly formed a desperate plan that might just work.

Measuring their movements carefully, she waited for an opening and finally got it. After she knocked away a high swing, she quickly stepped forward and spun a full one hundred and eighty degrees. During that spin, she snatched a dagger from her belt. The finishing of that maneuver had her standing face to face with a surprised lizardman. Then death glazed over his eyes as he fell backwards, a victim of a sudden dagger thrust.

Of course Dianne wasn't wasting time by watching him die, she was already attacking the remaining lizardman. Fueled by the frustration of being ganged up on, she took out her anger on him through a ceaseless flurry. Now, with one on one, all things considered in terms of skill, Dianne just plain overwhelmed him. After seven meetings of their blades, the Ranger was already turning away, seeking to aid Musashi with his opponent.

Only to find out that he was facing her, with a dead centaur lying on the ground behind him, obviously about to attempt the same thing. They grinned briefly at each other then went to see if they could kill more enemies.

The Guardiana soldiers fought bravely and brilliantly. Although fairly outnumbered, each member took their own respectable toll on the enemy. Several small victories were won. But, alas, the larger fight was far from winnable. As if mental contact with each other, the Runefaust force pressed their foes in, herding them all together into one spot.

Surrounding the blood spattered remnants of the Guardiana patrol, their enemies formed a ring around them.

Corporal Gallen winced at the wounds he had received from C'rees. If the dwarf hadn't charged in when he had, the young centaur Knight knew that he would have certainly died. He took stock of the situation while hastily chewing on a healing herb.

His heart sank in sudden depression and grief as he only spotted Captain Varios, Lieutenant Calbridge, and seven other knights. Shaking his blonde topped head slowly, Gallen couldn't believe it. Out of a patrol of twenty-five centaurs, not even half remained standing! He prayed fervently that there were other survivors who were just knocked out or too badly wounded too stand.

Fortunately, it seemed that most of Varios's handpicked command crew were still alive. The dwarf (who had saved his life), the elf Ranger, and the slant eyed human warrior were all there. Although covered with wounds and surely suffering from exhaustion, they were still ready to continue fighting.

"Any ideas?" Musashi asked under his breath.

"Go out in a blaze 'er glory," replied Luke nonchalantly, as if facing certain death was nothing. He threw both Dianne and Musashi a knowing wink, which they returned, and all three of them got ready. Further conversation was interrupted when the leader of the Runefaust soldiers addressed them.

"Well, well, well my friends," he began mockingly, "you fought the good fight, but alas, it wasn't enough." Without further adieu, he turned around and added a few parting comments. "If you will excuse me, I have something important to finish. Good mage, will you accompany me?" Pavash gestured towards the sole Dark Mage, who hadn't participated in the battle at all. The centaur had another use for him.

With an attitude that spoke volumes of cold indifference, he noted Seth C'rees. Or what was remained of him; his head was splattered like a melon. "Well, I see C'rees really lost his head that time," he joked, shrugging disdainfully. Then he threw his one last order to his men.

"Kill them."

Then it happened.

Before Pavash and the Dark Mage even took another two steps forward, a miracle happened.

Out of thin air materialized a hail of flame, which seemed focused on a part of the Runefaust forces. The immediate effects were quite obvious.

The circle of centaurs and lizardmen quickly and abruptly dissolved. All the unaffected soldiers, confused by this unexpected attack, instinctively distanced themselves from their burning comrades. Those who were at the mercy of the firestorm dropped and rolled over in the grass, trying to put it out. Although only five of the Runefaust soldiers were affected, paranoia and confusion were temporarily widespread.

Of course, the enclosed Guardiana soldiers didn't let this opportunity pass by. Dianne, Musashi and Luke led the charge towards the weakest link of the circle. Roaring battle cries, the remnant of the patrol followed them.

Slamming down the unfortunate lizardman who happened to be in his way, Luke chopped him down with his axe and veered in the direction of a wounded Rune Knight. Musashi followed him, as did Dianne. Captain Varios led his knights as they abruptly wheeled around to clash once again with the Runefaust force. Thanks to the timely Blaze Level Two spell, the numbers were more even. And during the brief respite, all of Varios's wounded men had taken healing herbs.

Reacting quickly, Calbridge broke away from his position in line. "Captain, I'll stop their leader!" Without waiting for confirmation of his sudden request, the brown haired centaur immediately galloped away toward the ancient shrine.

Fighting down an urge to cuss, Varios quickly ordered Gallen to go and aid the headstrong Lieutenant. He himself took Gallen's place in battle.

As the Blaze spell ran its course, Tao's eyes rolled up and she collapsed. Khris was there to catch her friend and ease her descent to the soft grass. The elf wizard had exhausted the last of her energy in casting the spell at a distance of fifty feet. But this time however, Khris herself had taxed her healing energy too much, so she settled in to watch the ensuing battle and also over her two unconscious friends Mae and Tao.

All she could do now was hope for the best.

Running full out, never hesitating once, Pavash struggled to at least complete his mission. Inside he burned with an embarrassed rage; even with reinforcements, he was virtually on the brink of failure! He instinctively knew that someone would be chasing him, so he poured on the speed.

When the two of them finally reached the Gate of the Ancients, the Dark Mage lost no time in dismounting, and coming to a halt before the locked oak doors, he immediately began a spell. Wheeling around, Pavash impatiently spun his lance before him as he waited for the mage to open the door with his magic. As he saw the form of a single Guardiana Knight approaching at an alarming speed, he growled, "Hurry it up, you blasted fool! They're almost here!" Some distance behind the charging centaur, he saw another Guardiana Knight.

Sweating profusely, the Dark Mage sang off the last few words and pushed forward with both of his arms. A reddish glow of magical energy shot forth from his open palms and covered the doors like a thin, second skin. A second later, the formidable obstacle had simply disappeared into thin air, and the spell caster slumped in weariness.

At seeing the door disappear, a blaze of thoughts ran through Calbridge's mind and he came to quick conclusion. In order to increase his chances of getting the full payment, he would have decrease then number of foes he faced. With that in mind, he instantly launched his lance with all the might he could muster at Pavash.

An already alert Runefaust commander merely sidestepped the incoming missile. Suddenly hearing a thunk and following gasp of disbelieving pain, he glanced quickly at the source. Only a brief appearance of something that might have been guilt flickered in his soul, then died quickly. Shrugging it off, he raced through the open doorway to finish his last duty to Runefaust.

Leaving behind the corpse of a lance impaled Dark Mage.

"Damn, he's already inside," cursed Calbridge as he raced against the ever increasingly difficult opponent, time.

There! He had finally reached where the door had been. Yanking his lance free from the Dark Mage's body, he rushed in after Pavash.

The next few events would start the shaping of an unbelievable tale.

The Runefaust commander stepped inside the ancient shrine. In a quick examination, nothing really stood out. It seemed the Gate of the Ancients was built from basic materials; flat, gray concrete floor and stone walls and ceiling. Fifteen feet from the opened entrance was another door, which was made of oak wood as well. The major difference was that this door was sealed shut with an extremely powerful magic, one that no ordinary mage or sorcerer could ever hope to unlock.

Another difference was that this door had a big, square lock (without chain), attached to the front. This enchanted lock also had the keyhole located on the front, rather then the bottom.

Fortunately, Pavash came well prepared. His masters at Runefaust had given him a very special, enchanted item to use at this moment. With a victorious yell, aiming for the keyhole, he charged forwards with all his speed.

He was about three-fourths of the way to his final destination, when Calbridge entered through the doorway. Seeing that his opponent was about to reach the keyhole before him, he grabbed the blood coated silver ball and flung it with all his might.

Calbridge's round projectile, as if having a magnetic attraction to the keyhole, flew towards in a blink of an eye. With a loud **'**clunk', it fitted itself nicely within the hole, nearly submerging half of its width. This had happened so fast that Pavash could not stop his approach in time, could not even yank his weapon out of the way.

Pavash's ebony lance was just behind it. When the sharp tip made contact with the blood covered surface, it sank in only up to a half of an inch, then stopped. This sudden resistance made the Runefaust leader's grip on the lance to slide forward and the rest of body followed. With a loud clanging noise, the butt of the lance met his abdomen. Thankfully, his armor cushioned the impact to a mere bump that sent him staggering a few steps back.

Pavash didn't really notice all that because a burst of dark green magic exploded suddenly from his lance, enshrouding the entire length of it. The force of the discharge blew the nearby Pavash off his feet and sending him crashing to the floor halfway across the room. Calbridge was still at at the door way, seemingly rooted to the spot at the sight before him.

It was best described as a clash of magics. As in response to the black lance, the crimson painted ball flashed a bright red aura. The inside of the shrine brightened by the swirling of the two magical items, as their innate magic seemed to try and overwhelm each other. Shadows expanded and contracted as the energy battle continued.

Then it seemed to reach a climax as both ball and lance increased their light show ten times. Both centaurs were forced away from the blinding flash. Seemingly brighter than the sun itself, the light show suddenly exploded outwards in a powerful blast of conflicting energies.

The wave enveloped first Pavash, whose last thought was 'This wasn't supposed to happen!'

Several feet behind him, Calbridge had barely freed himself from the hypnotizing spectacle of the light show and began retreating. He didn't make it in time though, before the destructive wave reached him. He only had time to wonder if he would survive this so he could get his payment.

Then the Gate of the Ancients exploded in a fiery blaze of fire, smoldering wood, chipped cement and stone, and lingering magical energies.

At that instant, in an undisclosed location, a gray haired old man with a beard looked up from where he was writing on scroll.

"Hahaha! Well, Dark Sol old friend, it appears that the opening move is in MY favor!"

His eyes briefly glowed a malevolent red, then went back to normal. He returned to his work, chuckling in satisfaction.

End Chapter Five

Rough Draft completed: November 6, 2004

Preliminary editing completed: November 6, 2004

Author Notes:

One of my most delayed chapters ever! Yay, thank goodness it's done! All I can say is that it took a long time for my muse to work it's way up from wherever pit it fell into.

And now, a bit of bad news from me. Future chapters will be a bit slower in production. No, RL is not getting to me (I really make sure of that). I have some other ideas that I want to put on pen and paper (or keyboard and monitor). Rest assured that Chapter Six will be written (or typed) in due time. I will take on the dubious task of writing two different kind of stories at once, or maybe three. Yup, the writing bug has bitten me with a vengeance.

See ya in Chapter Six!


	6. Distant Realities Chapter 6

Disclaimer: The glorious, heroic members of the highly acclaimed Shining Force respond to a different authority than mine, I am just borrowing them...for the occasion. 

An Alternate Shining Force fanfic  
Distant Realities  
By DarkSoar  
Chapter 6

Two women sat across from each other. One, an older, mature but still attractive brunette took her younger companion's hands in her own. Seeing the older woman's face sadden, the young woman, barely into her adult years, instinctively tightened her grip.

"What is it?" she asked, with a determination to remain strong, no matter what the news was.

Breathing out a sigh of resignation, the older woman's eyes grew moist as she said, "My dear daughter, I'm afraid that it's time for you to return." A tear broke and ran free along the contours of her cheek.

Closing her eyes briefly, the young woman let her head sag down then she leaned forward and gently embraced her companion in a loving embrace. "I'm glad we had this time to meet and to spend time with each other again."

"Yes, as am I," said the older woman in a strained voice, as she struggled to keep from breaking out into sobs. They held each other for a moment longer then slowly disengaged. Standing up at the same time, they stepped a foot away from each other and let their handclasp slip apart.

Regarding each other with similar looks of sadness and love, the older woman said, "My little pony, I'm going to miss you. I wish we could spend more time together, oh how so much I wish, but I must cherish these last few moments of our reunion. You've already done me proud. But, alas, time is growing short, and I must prepare your departure from here. Remember all that you've been told; it will prove to be a significant advantage in the war that has begun. And now, I shall send you back to your friends, and to your father. They need you now more then ever."

The black-haired woman bowed her head in concentration, then brought the palms of her hands together and out, facing the younger woman. Soon, in a matter of moments, the younger woman started glowing a pale blue, which soon started to increase in intensity.

Realizing that only seconds remained before she disappeared, the glowing woman quickly cried out, "I love you, Momma! I'll make you, don't worry!"

With tears running down her cheeks, the mother smiled at her beloved daughter. "I know, sweetie, I know. Farewell!"

Suddenly in a flash of light, her daughter was gone.

Forever.

Sniffling a bit, the mother hugged her arms to herself and whispered, "Goodbye my darling daughter."

"Goodbye, Mae."

* * *

"Hand over all your gold and supplies, if you please. Do not bother to draw your blade; you are hopelessly outnumbered, so I do not recommend it. I daresay that a strapping, young lad such as you, with his whole life ahead of him, would not care to endanger it?"

It was an odd cast of individuals that stood on the road, about twenty miles to Manarina. In a half circle, a group of six forest bandits stood before a lone swordsman, blocking his way.

The swordsman, a black-haired, darkly tanned man in his early thirties stood straight and tall, not the least frightened or even intimidated. Above average height, he was well muscled and built, without being too bulky. His intense cobalt eyes flicked around him, marking all of their positions and mentally calculating their threat potential.

"And who are you?" he asked coolly, not even showing a hint of fear.

The recipient of the question, a tall and skinny man, was dressed in the type of clothes you would expect a noble to wear. Which in other words meant flashy, brightly colorful, and one hundred percent silk. In the woods, it looked completely out of place and not the kind of clothing a bandit would usually wear. The nobly dressed man was just that; a bandit. From all appearances, it looked like he was in charge of this motley pack of ruffians.

He had the sort of looks that women considered very handsome and eye catching. A perpetual expression of smugness and self-importance was present on his face; his neatly combed, blonde hair was slicked back with gel. A beautifully crafted and elegant looking rapier hung at his side, his right hand lay casually on the hilt.

Puffing up in self-importance, the bandit fop (as the fighter thought of him) introduced himself, speaking in a lightly accented, aristocratic tone, all words perfectly enunciated.

He was probably the most arrogant, self indulgent, cocky, overconfident bastard Dyne had the displeasure to meet.

"I, my good peasant, am Loy D' Asse, and these are my not-so-reliable men-at-arms. Now, as a formality, bred from my courtly manners, I must ask you the same question. And please keep your hands away from your second hand weapon there at your waist. I would hate to have my men end your life a few decades short of your natural life span."

The swordsman managed to keep from bursting out into sudden laughter. That was, without a doubt, one of the most absurd and stupidest name he had ever heard of. But he did acknowledge D' Asse's warning and crossed his arms over his chest. 'Whoever heard of a nobleman foppish outlaw?' he thought. Thinking about that ridiculous name nearly made him chortle in amusement, but he limited his outward expression to only a faint grin. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed. Maybe there was a way he could have some amusement with these fellows before it ended.

Clearing his throat, the swordsman replied, "The name's Dyne. Hmm, let me guess. You were once a noble of a minor house. You grew bored with the life that the rich and famous lead, so you opted for a different path. One that hopefully led to some excitement and danger. And by the looks of it, you managed to gain some choice followers." Dyne took a good look at Loy's 'choice followers' and assessed their potential as a threat to him.

In startling contrast to their garishly dressed leader, his men wore the types of clothes that lower classes of society wore, basically leather and rough cloth. Although they looked like that they lived a more rugged life than their leader, they certainly didn't smell like it. Idly, Dyne speculated (with no small amount of amusement) that Loy had ordered them to scrub clean their bodies maybe once a day, just so he could tolerate their presence without torturing his nose.

Loy's group was armed with a variety of old, but serviceable swords, daggers, and clubs. Judging by their various stances, it was obvious to the swordsman that they possessed at least some skill in the use of such weapons.

Blinking in surprise, taken aback by the perceptive and impressively accurate summary of his previous life, Loy could only nod dumbly.

Deliberately acting casual, Dyne stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. Shrugging, the swordsman remarked, "Well, it's nice to meet you, Mr. D' Asse, but unfortunately, I'm really hesitant to part with my hard earned gold. I'll tell you what, why don't you just let me continue on to Alterone and you can collect my coins another day?"

The ex-nobleman's eyes widened slightly in surprise at the cavalier answer. After a second of silence, his men started laughing and snorting derisively. Their garishly dressed leader joined in. Dyne noted with some amusement that he laughed like a high-pitch hyena.

"My, my, I must admit that is an answer that I haven't heard before! For that originality, I shall be gracious, and ask you a second time to kindly drop all your possessions, including your weapon, to the ground. Please act with haste, my good man. I, for one, would sincerely hate violence to erupt as a result of our little encounter."

Dyne appeared calm, but he felt his gut churn in a mixture of excitement, resignation, and anticipation. He raised an eyebrow and looked the foppish leader straight in the eye, mentally preparing himself.

"Well, if that's the way it's gonna be then, I guess I have no choice," he trailed off, heaving a sigh. Taking his traveling pack off, he placed it down in front of him and reached to loosen the clasps. With that done, he stepped back and raised his hands in apparent surrender. But before any of the bandits could come forward to check it out or disarm him, Dyne smiled like a predator cornering his prey and spoke just five words.  
"But to kill you all."

In a blur of motion, the swordsman snapped his forearms towards his chest, then flung them out again. He quickly skittered backwards to gain distance.

Taken by surprise, the outlaws could only gape in shock at the unbelievable speed at which the attack had been performed at. Their stupefaction quickly turned into anger when two of them, who had been the closest to D' Asse, collapsed to the ground with moans of the dying. It was immediately obvious as to the cause; each had a small, hiltless throwing knife buried in their stomach.  
As the leader, Loy possessed quicker wits then his men. Considering the quality of his accomplices, this wasn't anything to be proud of. As all leaders are wont to do, he promptly ordered them into battle. "Annihilate him, you insipid buffoons," he shouted furiously, wishing for the hundredth time that he had gotten men with a bit more intelligence. Jolted into action, the remaining three robbers charged at the retreating swordsman.

Knowing that he was still outnumbered, Dyne decided to whittle down the numbers. While still running backwards in perfect balance, he reached down as if to touch his thighs and pulled out two more hiltless throwing knives. They had been concealed in their sheathes, which were fastened around his thighs and were hidden under his loose pants, and could be accessed quickly (such as in situation like this) through a barely visible slit cut in his pants at thigh level, just under his hips. Suddenly ceasing his retreat, Dyne instantly flicked his hands upwards and sent the two deadly blades flying at his enemies.

Too enraged by their comrades sudden demise and lusting for revenge, the two bandits in front never saw them coming. They stumbled forward a few steps, uselessly grasping the knives lodged in their chests, and then expired from the world of the living.

Thinking to charge his opponent headlong, the lone remaining bandit ran straight at him and attacked. Having already drawn his long sword, Dyne parried the first attack; a cross cut. Then, a low slash was attempted; Dyne forcefully swung his weapon in a low, tight loop that knocked the bandit's sword up in the air. With the speed of a striking cobra, Dyne lunged into a thrust and impaled several inches of edged steel into the bandit's abdomen.

The swordsman pulled his blade free, letting the body fall to the ground, and turned to face his last foe. Cocking his head to the side, he regarded Loy with a disappointed expression.

"I did say to let me pass unhindered. Now look at what you made me do. It seems that your men won't be freeing anymore valuable from their real owners from now on," he paused, then said with exaggerated sarcasm, "my apologies."

For a man who had just lost all of his men, the foppish D' Asse was remarkably unperturbed. In fact, he looked somewhat relieved.

"Apologies accepted. Although I must thank you for liberating me from the company of such plebian dregs. I was going to end my association with them in a week. They were proving to be more trouble than they were worth."

"No charge." The slightest hint of a grin was present.

"Since I have witnessed firsthand your above average proficiency with a sword, I wish to pit my skill against yours."

Dyne took a moment to consider this. How much trouble could this arrogant popinjay be? With all of his support gone, Dyne was sure that he could easily handle the likes of Loy D' Asse. So it was with this attitude that he unconcernedly accepted the challenge. "Sure, whatever. To the death."

The nobleman-turned-bandit drew out his rapier and held it in front of his face. "A duel to the death it is, then," he cried out dramatically. He assumed a fencing stance; left arm tucked behind his back and with his right holding the rapier, pointing downwards. "Prepare yourself!"

Giving a curt nod, Dyne stood sideways in relation to D' Asse, long sword held loosely across from his thighs. A quick mirthless smile appeared; he asked, "No wonder you left the life of a noble. What's the matter? You couldn't get a suitable wife with a ridiculous name like that? Why-."

"Silence, you filthy commoner!" Loy shouted, blatantly ignoring the fact that he was now an outlaw, and that he was in no position to criticize proper birth in society's upper class, or lack of it. "We begin! Behold! The flashing blade of Loy D'Asse!" His pale face glowing with rage, the outlaw leader quickly advanced. Dyne was not slow at all to counter his charge and soon the sound of steel meeting steel echoed through the air.  
Eyes alight with righteous indignation, D' Asse was the first to obtain the offensive. His rapier snapped to and fro, executing a flawless series of rapid thrusts and jabs, all directed at the chest and lower. However, his skilled opponent just as skillfully defeated every jab, swinging his blade side to side.

Dyne was grinning now; fully enjoying the heat and rush of the fight. So far he had been right on the money about Loy's abilities; the foppish bandit was throwing nothing but predictable attacks. Well, it was time to teach Mr. D' Asse the consequences of attacking him!

With a single sidestep by the swordsman, one of Loy's thrusts fell short, and then it was Dyne's turn to snatch the offensive. A low thrust was turned aside, as was the second one, and third. Seeing that approach wasn't working, he switched to slashing and hacking, alternating middle and high almost at random. Loy's face turned positively smug as he efficiently blocked them all.

"Not bad," Dyne was forced to admit. Lines of sweat ran down his face as he continued trying to get through D' Asse's defense.

Wearing a smug grin, Loy replied, "I was the best swordsman in the court for almost five years! And now, I'll show you how I did it!" He began the necessary motions for a low thrust and watched his foe's blade carefully. Milliseconds before their swords came into contact, Loy immediately shifted the balance of his feet and altered the angle of his wrists. Instead of being parried, his rapier slid on a course directly for the stomach. "I have you," he crowed raucously.

Dyne's face grew suddenly alarmed (a scene that Loy absolutely delighted in seeing); with catlike reflexes, he somehow managed to twist his body to the side. It was enough to avoid being impaled, but the swordsman did not escape unharmed. He was forced to choke back the biting pain that resulted from his first injury ever received since the fight began. The rapier's point had missed his stomach, but had slashed a long, but relatively light cut across his left thigh.

Grasping the advantage, D' Asse retracted his rapier then unexpectedly slashed upwards. Caught by surprise for the second time, and still reeling from the effects of the wound, the swordsman stumbled back a step. That was only thing that saved him from death; he bellowed out in pain as the rapier's wicked edge bit deep and tore a jagged line up his chest. Although not fatal, it was much deeper than the injury on his thigh.

Seeing that his foe was off balance by the pain and shock, Loy decided to bring this fight to an end. Feeling sure of his victory, he stepped forward and leapt forward into one final thrust. "And the game is mine!" he proclaimed arrogantly, and perhaps prematurely.

It was only by pure determination that allowed the swordsman to live beyond the day. Ignoring the pain from his second wound through sheer willpower, Dyne threw himself to the side as D' Asse made his move. As the bandit leader's own leap propelled him past, their eyes met, and the swordsman caught the sudden look of horror, denial, and pure disbelief.

Immediately, without hesitating, Dyne quickly tossed his sword up in the air, turned his wrist so that his thumb faced the ground, and caught his weapon as gravity reaffirmed itself. The swordsman twisted his upper body and rammed his sword hard through his opponent's back.

Loy looked down to see the unmistakable blade of a sword protruding from his chest; 'Impossible' he mouthed, not having any energy left to speak. Then all life fled from him as he slumped to his knees with his head bowed, a look of complete amazement on his face.

Breathing heavily and rapidly, Dyne wiped the sweat off his forehead. "I win," he murmured, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. He tugged his weapon free and scowled at the body of D' Asse. Turning a eye to his own wounds, the swordsman shook his head in self reproach. "Note to self; never underestimate your opponent, you fool. It's a good way to get yourself killed."

It was at that time the adrenaline from the intense battle wore off. Dyne's mouth opened in a silent scream as the agonizing pain flared and made itself known. It nearly made him black out, but he managed to stumble over to his pack. He had several healing herbs, bandages, and disinfectant powders that would help until he got to a priest, hopefully, in Alterone.

If he could remain conscious long enough to go to one, that is.

"Gods above, this hurts."

Gritting his teeth, the swordsman then proceeded to treat his wound as best as he could.

* * *

"What is the status of the situation in Guardiana?"

"My lord Dark Sol. We have experienced an unexpected difficulty. Commander Pavash of the strike force has failed."

"Failed? Explain, and quickly, Mishaela."

"Yes, my lord. When I detected the outburst of energy in Guardiana, I immediately took steps to try and make contact with Dark Dragon. It was then that I realized that I was only able detect the presence of Dark Dragon, but only partially."

"Partially? By that I assume you mean that some sort of magical interference is hindering Dark Dragon's complete entrance into this dimension?"

"You are most perceptive, Lord Dark Sol. Upon discovering that, I immediately cast several high level scrying and seeking spells to try and find out the exact nature of the interference. I was able to detect the magic of Pavash's lance, but that was when I came to the point where it was connected across something I could not accurately identify."

A loud snort of contempt. "Of course you were not able to. Even a manipulator of magic of your level would be hard pressed to even begin to analyze demon magic."

A gasp of surprise, echoed by a note of faint skepticism. "Demon magic, my lord?"

Another contemptuous snort, followed by a impatient hiss. "Yes, demon magic! You dare doubt that I do not recognize the magic of my own kin? Dare you find out the price for such presumptuous?" The sentence was followed by the ominous sound of magical energy being gathered.

The tiniest thread of fear could be heard in an otherwise steel encased voice. "Of course not, my Lord. I was -merely- surprised at such news. It is not everyday that we encounter such magic that does not originate from you, my Lord."

A mirthless chuckle sounded as the energy was dispelled without a second thought. "Do not trouble yourself further. I shall take deep pleasure in discovering the identity of the new player that has decided to enter the game. In the meantime, I want you, Mishaela, to inform the generals to assemble the army. I believe that in the light of Pavash's failure and the appearance of this new, unexpected variable, I believe that we must add a small revision to our plans. In two days, we shall begin phase one."

A pause, followed by a voice filled with greedy anticipation. "The beginning of Guardiana's annihilation! Mishaela, I have an important mission for you. Attend to me before informing the generals. We shall see how dear old King Amner shall handle things with one of his most precious things he holds most dear suddenly goes missing!"

The sounds of a typical sounding top-bad-guy-laughing his head off echoed throughout the place.

* * *

"Damned rain! Why won't it stop?"

Max was terribly bored, and also in a bad mood. They'd been stuck in the same place for hours now, and it had been steadily getting under his skin. On the bright side, as small as it was, the rain seemed to be letting up a bit. Perhaps soon they'd be able to resume their journey.

Kokichi's grandson sure hoped so. If that blasted EMAM kept telling his stale jokes cursed of his own twisted sense of humor, Max wouldn't be held responsible for ceasing Adam's existence on Rune. If he didn't know any better, he would've sworn that the robot did it on purpose. Naaaah, that couldn't be...could it?

"This old man, he played one, he played knick knack on my son, with a knick knack paddywhack give my dog a bone, this old man came rolling home."

He groaned loudly. "Adam, give it a rest already! You've been singing that forever now!" That was the tenth time he'd said that; in response to the first, Adam had primly informed him that it had been a popular kids song back in Homesphere, and he'd taken a liking to it. Max had no idea how to reply to that and so Adam had kept singing quietly, despite the fact that to his master felt it was getting old.

"This old man, he played two, he played knick knack on my shoe, with a knick knack paddywhack give my dog a bone..."

Max shook his head wearily and gave up. He sat on the moist ground, not caring whether his butt got wet or not because he was already for the most part soaked in any case. Hunching over, Max tried to tune out his companion's irritating song by thinking some things over.

"This old man, he played three, he played knick knack on my tree, with a knick knack paddywhack..."

The aspiring fighter thought back to all the training he had received; military tactics and strategy, sword fighting, martial arts, tracking, hunting, archery, horseback riding. He harbored some doubts; the instructors at Guardiana had a reputation for being tough, strict and extremely demanding officers. Their academy program weeded out those unfit and each group of trainees was rumored to have a seventy five percent failure rate. The training was that tough, so it was said. Max had once been told by Master Delacan that even the least skilled of Guardiana's soldiers were almost the equal of elite troops of any of the other kingdoms. Well, pretty soon, he'd have the opportunity to test that for himself. Max was pretty eager to see where he stood skillwise in comparison to Guardiana's finest.

He had good reason to have confidence in himself. It wasn't as if he was a clumsy beginner, naïve and inexperienced. His various trainers had seen to it that Max's sensibilities were hardened before even entering Guardiana's walls. Therefore, they had taken him out on several 'community service excursions', which consisted of searching out and destroying any monsters they found lurking near Homesphere. Of course, all of the boy's trainers had went together with their student. Max had protested at first, saying that the monsters weren't causing anyone harm or doing any trouble. That had quickly changed when they came upon the corpses of two unfortunate travelers who had been ambushed by a group of goblins. Of course immediately after that Max had named it his priority to avenging the poor souls, and his instructors had supported him.

He was only fifteen years old when he had his first kill. A sneaky goblin had crept up upon Taka Manako, his horse riding teacher, and would have certainly ended his existence right then if Max hadn't attacked it from behind. He'd shoved his sword all the way through the goblin's body and bore it to the ground. Almost immediately though, he'd stood up and vomited. He was nauseated, not only by the actual killing itself, but also by the fact that the smell of the goblin and it's blood was incredibly putrid and repulsive. His instructors had made light of the matter, teasing him that the best way to dispose of a goblin wasn't to throw it to the ground and leap upon it with one's body.

After that, well, most memorable experience, Max had soon grew, if not used, then toughened enough to stomach the inevitable bloodshed and continued to go on many such excursions where he became more and more adept at handling all kinds of monsters. When his instructors were satisfied that he wouldn't embarrass them by throwing his weapon away and retreating, they moved his training on to other things.

"This old man, he played four..."

Quite unexpectedly, Max's trained senses alerted him to something. At first, he couldn't figure it out, but it soon became clear.

"He played knick knack on my door..."

Besides Adam's singing and the sound of rain falling, the forest behind them was silent.

"With a knick knack..."

James Moorson, experienced hunter and tracker that he was, had reminded Max that whenever the wildlife was silent, it meant that it had sensed a presence. This foreign presence was potentially dangerous most of the time, and anyone sufficiently versed in nature survival would be wise to heed the wildlife's warning.

"Paddywhack, give my dog a..."

"Adam, shhhhh." Max cautioned as he turned around to peer into the forest. He didn't have much success as it was too dark and the bulk of numerous tree trunks blocked his view. However, he suspected that there was something lurking in there.

Adam turned his head to regard his master's actions. He'd followed Max's instructions and had immediately buttoned up. What on Rune was his master doing?

He got his answer when both of them heard a faint yell wafted out from the other side of the forest. An instant later, the unmistakable sounds of steel ringing out on steel followed. A battle was being waged!

Suddenly feeling relieved that something exciting was going on, Max was quick to draw his sword and started heading into the woods. "Gods of Light! C'mon Adam! Let's go see what's going on! Someone might need our help!"

"Master Max! Wait, it might not be safe for you to go there! Master Max!" Adam held out one hand, beseeching his young, rash, AND headstrong master to listen to his words of caution. It was to no avail, however, as the eager youth soon disappeared into the forest.

The EMAM emitted a modulated series of descending tones that was the equivalent of a human sighing. "Humans," he muttered in emulated disgust and started after Max with a shake of his bullet head.

* * *

Thirty minutes ago...

Princess Anri of Guardiana, twenty two years old, was feeling absolutely miserable. Life sucked, she decided.

At the moment, she was heading home after a tiring, but necessary week spent in Alterone, engaged in a series of political meetings. With her was her official escort, which consisted of forty men, broken down into equal amounts of knights and archers, who doubled as swordsmen as well. Along with them as support were two priests, and a wizard. They weren't really expecting trouble, but it was always a smart thing to be prepared, just in case.

They had been off to a good start, having left when the rain had stopped, but were forced to slow down when it resumed with an angry vengeance. The young princess felt sorry for the men who stoically endured the rain that splattered against their armor and ran inside through any cracks to soak their clothes. She felt spoiled and coddled being crammed inside the Royal Coach with Shernan Gledeck, her father's primary adviser, the wizard and two priests. No one seemed inclined to speak, and if she were given a choice, she'd be out there on horseback, feeling the rain soak her to skin and reveling in it, not being cooped up in some stupid boring wagon. About four hours had passed since they'd left Alterone, and they had to take a detour twice to avoid several places where the mud grew deep and was simply unpassable for miles with the coach. At the moment, they were off road and were taking a very long way home. Anri's butt had long since grown numb and her feet were dead asleep.

To take her mind off her physical discomfort, the dark, blue haired and beautiful daughter of Guardiana's current ruler thought about how her life was going and the reasons why it was so miserable.

She understood implicitly that as the future leader of Guardiana, she would have to secure a firm ground from which future generations could build up on. Her father was healthy and in good shape, but he was getting older. Soon, hopefully not too soon, she would have to take up the mantle as Queen Anri. And in order for her reign to be beneficial to her kingdom and her subjects, she would have to master every significant aspect of politics.

One of those significant aspects included strengthening relations between Guardiana and her neighboring kingdoms. It was generally a good idea to have many allies on your side, whom which you could call on for help in case of war. Stable trade routes and merchant wagons went hand in hand, and were also another thing of a hundred others which helped in keeping such relations on a steady, stable life.

Anri snorted in a most unladylike manner, not caring how Shernan, who was sitting beside her, blushed at hearing it. A few days ago, her father had asked her to go on an important trip to meet with King Maschaz, Alterone's monarch, on a series of issues. Anri wasn't a novice at politics and the dynamics of kingdom relationships, as a matter of fact, she was quite experienced at such things. But her father had thought it was a good idea to get her familiar with Maschaz's Royal Council and his family. The whole deal had sounded okay to the young Princess right up to the point until her father had mentioned something about 'marriage' and Maschaz's son 'Morvis' together in one sentence.

Anri had never been so angry, had never glared so harshly at her father in all her life. Furious as she was, her wrath nearly drove her to punch him in the face. To think that he, her beloved and loving father, would even think of submitting her to such a terrible fate! Immediately, she had let him know how she felt about that idea in no uncertain terms and language. The King had looked pained that his daughter would react this way, but she assured him that her feelings on the matter were genuine, and not likely to change in her lifetime.

The reason for her reaction was that she had met Prince Morvis before, and he wasn't exactly desirable husband material.

She couldn't count the number of things that was wrong with the idea of her marrying that, that, jerk Morvis. First of all, she wasn't ready to get married; she'd yet to have a steady boyfriend (discounting the fact that princesses weren't allowed to have a boyfriend). Second, there wasn't anything that was even remotely likable about Morvis. He had bucked front teeth, stringy red hair that stood out everywhere, a face full of unsightly pimples, was tall and extremely skinny. Actually, admittedly his physical appearance wasn't THAT bad. Anri had seen much worse.

Rather, the true cause for her ... disagreement was that his personality was absolutely, positively the most repulsive and obnoxious THING she had the misfortune to encounter. Not only was he still fifteen years old, which meant he was a bit too young for her tastes, Morvis acted like he owned everything and everyone. He was, simply put, a major brat and had a chip the size of a mountain on his shoulder. He thought that anyone who didn't have the privilege of being noble born was beneath his notice and acted accordingly. Anri would've given thanks that he wasn't that way towards her, but it would've been a whole lot better if he was. She was firmly convinced that he was a hormone driven pervert, and his past actions all just confirmed it. Her time at Alterone was made all the more miserable with him around. For example, like what happened five days ago...

Flashback:

Anri sighed as she was walked down the hallway which led to the VIP guest room she had been given. Actually walking was too strong a term; rather, it was more like she was dragging her feet forward. The young princess couldn't wait to take a nice, hot shower and take a good long nap.

Sleep sounded like a blessing at the moment. It felt like every ounce of energy had been leached from her, and only determination kept her on her feet.

Thankfully, she arrived at her room and said hello to her personal guards Tom and Jerry, who were on both sides of the door. "Ma'am," they greeted, nodding respectfully. She managed a faint smile, but they both knew it was a genuine one. As she unlocked the door, she said, "I'm going to take a well deserved nap. Please don't let anyone bother me, okay boys? I'm dead tired."

"You got it," affirmed Tom. Jerry smiled and nodded in response. Anri didn't mind it at all; these two had been serving as her personal guards for almost ten years. She had grown fond of them and had encouraged them to act a bit more informal towards her than they would have done otherwise. That was only in private though.

Anri smiled again in acknowledgement, opened the heavy oak door, and went inside, closing it behind her.

Without turning to look at his partner, Jerry said, "She's looking more and more tired every day, starting from when we first got here." A note of concern could be heard in his voice.

Tom murmured, likewise keeping his eyes straight ahead, "I know that. She knows that as well. But we're really can't do anything about it. The Princess hates this kind of stuff; maybe that's why she's pushing herself to get it over with as quickly and efficiently as possible. Anyways, we'll be headed home in a couple of days. Perhaps then, she can take some time off and relax."

"I hope so. I'm kinda worried about her."

Further conversation was interrupted when the both of them heard someone approaching. They instantly stiffened automatically and regarded the newcomer. He turned out to be a tall, skinny red freckle faced boy of around fifteen years of age, with stringy, brown hair that was tied back in a short ponytail. A silken black long pants, knee length riding boots, and an expensive looking, well decorated green, long sleeved vest trimmed with black was what he wore. He was wearing a cocky, annoying smirk and a snobbish looking expression on his face.

Tom and Jerry recognized him instantly, though they didn't feel happy about seeing this particular person.

It was none other than the youngest Prince of Alterone himself, Morvis.

Both of the guards carefully kept their faces blank, hiding their mutual dislike with him. Ever since they had first met him, or rather ever since Princess Anri had first met him, the young prince had given a rather bad first impression of himself. To be sure, Morvis had followed all the proper rules of protocol and politics, but just barely. He certainly didn't make any effort to restrain his freely roaming eyes as he lustfully stared (and even drooled) at Anri's nicely sized chest and feminine figure. Tom and Jerry were hard pressed to keep from knocking some respect into the perverted twerp, but somehow they did. Even if it was called for, both men had no desire to put strain on the relationship between Guardiana and Alterone.

Now they were suspicious and wary of the reason why he was here. Sharing a quick glance with each other, they suspected that whatever reason the boy prince had, it most likely had something to do about getting close to their future queen. Now that was something they would not happen, regardless of Morvis's station in life.

The thin, freckled young man walked right up to the oak door and casually reached for the handle. Tom sprang into action; he put on the most disapproving face he could, and said in a deep, slightly ominous tone of voice. "Prince Morvis, Princess Anri is currently resting and has explicitly ordered us not to allow anyone to bother her."

Now anyone at this point would have quickly apologized and left. Not so Morvis Maschaz. He was taken aback; shocked that anyone would dare stop him from doing something he wanted. Recovering, he offered Tom with a cold glare and said in a mocking tone, "My good soldier, it's all right. Allow me to pass through, for she surely won't mind my sudden visitation." Confidently, he reached for the door handle again.

Just as confidently, Tom and Jerry grabbed him under the arms from both sides, effortlessly hoisted him up in the air, and dropped him off a few feet away from the door, ignoring his protests and cries of indignation. They resumed their posts and Jerry addressed the obnoxious prince sternly, "With all due respect, Prince Morvis, it is our duty to make sure that absolutely no one, not even the King of Alterone himself, will disturb the Princess while she takes a much needed nap. I'm sure you understand and will respect her privacy at the moment." He stared Morvis down so hard that the boy flinched, then when he was satisfied that Morvis wouldn't push it, he grunted and returned to attention. The boy stomped off in a rage cursing up a storm, and the two men grinned in delight at each other. They weren't too concerned about getting into trouble with the boy's family; after all, it was King Maschaz himself who had readily given Anri free reign in how to deal with any unwanted attentions from his son

With his pride and ego severely bruised, Morvis was very furious at being treated so casually that he couldn't speak a single, comprehensible word. He seethed with rage; how dare that, that, those two gorillas manhandle him with such carelessness! Didn't they have any respect for the son of their host? Just wait until his father heard about this; he'd have the skin whipped off their bones, diplomatic relations or not!

Gradually calming down, the boy prince started snickering loudly as he walked down the hall that lead to the throne room. He had just thought up of another idea to achieve his goals. And while this new idea was potentially risky to his well being, he'd do anything to get to Anri!

Next stop, the equipment room!

* * *

The young woman sighed in relief as she sank down into the wonderfully warm water. She laid back against the smooth, firm 'wall' of the impressively crafted marble tub and rested her head on the sponge pillow placed there for such a purpose. By the Gods of Light, this felt heavenly! After a long day of sitting in a chair for hours, talking ceaselessly and negotiating with some very frustrating diplomats, all she wanted to do for now was to relax, soak, and forget her headaches for the time being.

Anri looked at the ceiling, considering for the moment the room she had been given. It was quite spacious, with an extremely comfortable king sized bed, two sets of drawers, two closets, a long mirror that would enable a person to see his entire self, the shower room, and a large window that was right by the bed. The view from there was spectacular, besides allowing one to see the sunset, she could see the whole of the courtyard, as well as the draw bridged gates, and the surrounding village all the way to the west.

Anri lost track of how long she lay there, letting the comfort of the heated water help wash away the aches and pains she had gained that day. Along the way, she slipped into a light doze, dreaming about nothing in particular, when a sudden loud 'clink' of a heavy metal object banging against stone abruptly woke her up.

'What in all of Rune was that?' she wondered, her ears searching the sudden silence for any more noises. There was none, but Anri's concern had been roused. She immediately pulled herself up from the bathtub and reached for her robe, all the while thinking of the many possible reasons for the intrusion. Maybe a bird flew in the window and knocked over a candlestick...maybe Tom or Jerry really have some important news and entered, somehow knocking over a candlestick...Arrgghh! Is it a little too much to ask for some time of peace and relaxation for myself! Whoever is responsible for bothering me is really gonna get it!

Then she heard a series of quiet noises, all of which were comparable to the first big noise, but not as loud. That did it. Instead of being frightened and calling for the guards, Anri was now royally pissed off (pardon the pun). With her face darkening in color, she grabbed a convenient sturdy wooden bucket that was near the tub and got a firm grasp on it with her right hand. Making sure that her robe was firmly tied in the back (so she wouldn't unintentionally give her mystery uninvited guest a free show), she readied herself.

"Ready or not, here I come."

Huffing a few times in righteous indignation, she scowled angrily, suddenly flung open the bathroom door, and leapt to the attack.

* * *

All the inhabitants of Castle Alterone were rudely interrupted from their daily routine when an enraged woman's voice erupted from the guest hall.

"AAAAAYYYYYYIIIIIIEEEEEEE! WHAT IN THE NAME OF RUNE ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM, YOU PERVERT! DIEE!"

An old shoemaker looked up, saw a rope and a hook dangling from a window on the fourth floor of the guest hall. He groaned in disgust. So did most of the people near him, including the knights and soldiers. They had a very good idea of what had just happened.

"Looks like Prince Morvis is at it again," the shoemaker commented wryly. He and everyone else shrugged their shoulders and returned to what they were doing. Nothing new to see here.

The sounds of instant violence erupted and echoed throughout the courtyard, emanating from that window.

* * *

A certain boy prince had thought of a good idea in which to appease his rather...wanton desires.

A certain boy prince had not thought of the obvious drawbacks with said 'good idea'.

And now, a certain boy prince was paying the piper. Big time.

A mighty whack with a wooden bucket caught him by surprise and sent him spinning backwards against the king sized bed and seeing stars.

A ferocious downward swing smacked him on the top of his head, causing him to bend over.

A fierce kick to his stomach forced him back upright and staggering.

All the while the lovely creature responsible for these actions was screaming her lungs out in rage, her eyes gleaming wrathfully, angered beyond reason at this invasion to her privacy.

"DIIIEE, YOU PERVERTED PIG! HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT A WOMAN'S PERSONAL SPACE! TAKE THIS!"

Discarding her bucket, Anri opted for the personal touch. While Morvis (yes it was him) was still dizzy from her previous attacks, she bitch slapped him once, twice on both cheeks, causing him to cry out like a girl, figuratively speaking. Well, Anri wasn't satisfied, and neither was her anger, so she followed up on the assault.

"AND THIS!"

She hoofed him in the most valuable spot that all guys treasure with all of her might. The boy prince's eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open, but he lacked the strength to yell or in any other way give voice to the unimaginable pain he must've been feeling. Only the Gods of Light knew what was keeping him up on his legs.

That wouldn't last too long though.

"AND MORE OF THE SAME!"

A second kick in the same spot caused the perverted boy to lose what little strength he had and collapse on the spot to lay motionless. Well, even with this new state of things, Anri still wanted to continue her punishment for him. She eagerly looked around and saw, to her great delight, a tall, oak wooden stool that stood in a corner. She was seriously considering using it when a someone coughed to get her attention.

Startled, she whirled around and saw Tom and Jerry standing behind her. They looked pleased and were even smiling a little. Then Tom spoke, "Princess, you can stop now. He's, umm, learned his lesson by now, I'm sure." Anri could see that it was taking all he had to not fall down on the floor, roaring with laughter. Jerry's own face was bright red and he held a mailed hand to his mouth, trying hard to suppress his giggles.

As Anri's anger slowly drained away, she too, began smiling and now as she looked back on what she did, she felt glad and justified. Then a short chuckle escaped from her throat.

As if it was signal, everyone in the room, who were still standing that is, began laughing themselves silly.

End Flashback...

Just remembering back towards what had happened made her feel a bit better. A small grin decorated her face; she had really pounded the living crap out of him, and he'd deserved every square inch of it. Anri allowed herself to feel vindicated. Actually, that had provided her with the perfect opportunity to get rid of some of the stress and tension that had built up. Her grin turned into a smirk; at least that pervert had at least turned out to be good for something.

And yes, her father had better accept the fact that she was most definitely not interested in marrying that immature brat of a pervert. At the thought of having to wake up every morning in bed next to HIM, a cold feeling ran down her spine and Anri shivered. Just the thought was tempting her lunch to come back up, but with an effort, she kept it down. To be married to that, that, that perverted pig was truly a fate worse than death. Although her father considered it an excellent and extremely beneficial idea for uniting the kingdoms, Anri was determined to make him rethink that particular plan. Right now, she was furiously thinking of an alternate solution and several backup plans. The young woman knew of her father's (well hidden) stubborness; once he'd latched upon an idea, almost nothing would make him change mind about it.

Anyone else other than Morvis, her mind reminded her. Perhaps maybe one of Alterone's higher classed nobles, or a close cousin of King Maschaz. Not for the first time, Anri thought about the type of man she'd like to get married to, although she was quite relatively inexperienced in the ways of a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. He'd have to be at least her height or a bit taller, patient, humble but not afraid to make his voice known, intelligent and with a sense of humor, strong willed but gentle, loyal and decent. There were lots of high class men in Guardiana and indeed a good number had possessed some of the traits that she desired but somehow, on way or the other, Anri had found fault with them. It was too weird and very frustrating to boot, and after a good six years of looking, Anri had all stopped looking. One of her reasons why she agreed to come to Alterone was that maybe, just maybe she could find a man she would come to trust and love and, as the old children bedtime stories went, live happily ever after.

Her train of thought was rudely interrupted when someone cried in alarm from outside of the Royal Coach.

"We're under attack!"

* * *

On a small mound that overlooked the scene of the battle, someone watched the action with mild interest.

The observer was a strikingly good looking female Shadow Elf. She was tall, and her pointed, sharp ears and slanted eyes granted her an inhuman, exotic beauty. Her smooth, unblemished lavender skin, coupled with her long, shiny purple colored hair simply increased that attractiveness. Her clear, perceptive green eyes took in everything that she saw. She was wearing a crimson magician's robe that partially hid her enticing figure. Around her waist, from a belt, hung several pouches of various herbs and magical powders. In her left hand was a black wizard's rod.

Mishaela grinned in satisfaction as she watched her squad gain ground as they savagely attacked the Guardiana escort almost immediately after teleporting. Another big advantage in her favor was that her squad was already in attack formation when they appeared while their targets were struggling to form a defensive line in front of the halted red coach. Already, several of the Guardianans were down, and to her the outcome looked pretty favorable. Her force, which consisted of human mercs and lizardmen, all on horseback, were equally matched in numbers against the Guardianans. The elven archers couldn't utilize their bows as they risked hitting their comrades and so were forced to switch to their swords and rush forward to join the knights. But their delay in doing so caused more pressure to be soon placed on the centaur knights in the frontline.

The sounds of battle arose, ringing into the air and echoing into the forest behind her. The moaning of the wounded and dying, ringing of steel on steel, the whinnying of the horses.

A Centaur Knight beat his opponent's sword aside with his lance and quickly thrust it through his body a split second later. However, he was blindsided from the left as another lizardman claimed his life with swinging axe stroke. A brown haired human mercenary joined forces with the lizardman and both of them ganged up on a hapless elven warrior.

The Guardiana commanding officer quickly directed his men to block all open paths that led towards the Princess. Before joining the hastily erected wall of defense, he ordered the driver of the coach to turn it around and go back towards Alterone for help.

Seeing this, Mishaela shook her head. "Uh uh, we can't have that happen, now can we?" With a mischievous smile, she lazily raised her hand and pointed her finger at it. One quick incantation later, a thin beam of crimson energy turned both of the rear wheels into piles of ashes. Of course, the immediate result was that the coach was dumped on its end. The driver got tossed backwards out of his seat by the sudden change in height and flew over the unbalanced coach, landing on the ground at a bad angle, instantly breaking his neck. The horses, already made nervous by the sound of combat, were thrown into an abrupt panic at hearing the coach making hard contact with the ground. They whinnied and were about to bolt, but in the next moment, all four of them fell dead to the hard, unforgiving ground. They were the victims of more crimson beams, courtesy of Mishaela, who looked extremely satisfied with herself. So far, the raid was going as planned.

It was at that moment she heard a male voice shouting from behind her, "On your guard, witch!"

* * *

The left door of the coach suddenly opened and an irate Anri got out, an angry scowl on her face. She was about to let the driver know exactly what she thought of his careless handling of the coach, which nearly gave her a concussion, and looked around.

The sight of him lying on the ground with his neck at an extremely wrong angle made her blanch for a moment in shock. Then the sounds of battle behind her position snapped her out of it. Her eyes widened as she saw a mixed group of lizardmen and humans, all dressed in different styles of armor and clothing, doing their best to push through her guards, who did their best to push them back.

Turning back towards the coach, she began helping the other passengers out. Luckily, everyone was okay except for Shernan, who had cracked his head on the ceiling and was unconscious. The young princess decided to leave him in the coach and quickly analyzed the situation. The coach and horses were destroyed beyond any possible use, and if they tried to run, it would be only a matter of time before their escort was overwhelmed and the mysterious attackers would simply catch up to them.

The only viable option was to stay and fight.

All of this took only a second, and then Anri was shouting orders with in a firm, authoritative voice. "Both of you, what in Rune are you waiting for! Go to those men and start healing their wounds! They're not going to last forever like that!" Without wasting time to even nod to her, they dashed off, heading for the right flank of the Guardiana soldiers. "Master Mage," she addressed the wizard, "go to the other side and see what support you can give to our escort."

The wizard, an older man in his forties with some silver hair showing, said, "As you command, your Highness," and quickly ran towards the left.

Her face flushed with some fear and mostly excitement, Anri went back inside the coach and opened the storage compartment carved within the floor of the disabled vehicle. She was aware that there was a very good possibility that she wouldn't live to see the end of the day. But at the same time, she couldn't help but feel energized by the adrenaline that can only come by facing a dangerous situation.

This was much more preferable than being in one of those boring, political meetings!

While the young princess was currently occupied, two lizardmen and a human merc suddenly broke through the defensive screen. Upon seeing the unarmed wizard, they snorted in blood lust and immediately charged towards them. The wizard, a brown haired, bearded middle aged man, did not panic. He began the gestures and incantations for a Freeze spell.

When the raiders were less than eighteen feet away, the wizard completed the spell. With a twirling and looping whirls of ice crystals and mist, one of the lizardmen literally froze in midstep. His two companions halted and looked at each other uncertainly. The wizard briefly thought of running, but the image of his young Queen being killed, or even worse, enslaved by these ruffians made him stand his ground. The pause in the two raiders charge gave him time to start chanting one of his shortest, but not as damaging spells, in hopes of defeating another one. However, time and luck both ran out for the brave wizard as the remaining lizardman got close enough and promptly stabbed him through the heart. The bearded man's eyes widened, feeling unimaginable pain for a moment, and he struggled to finish the last phrase. In his last seconds of life, he threw himself onto the surprised lizardman, disregarding the unbelievably sharp, tearing pain as the sword blade burst through the middle of his shoulders. While the lizardman was thus temporarily encumbered, a small hail of fireballs rained down from midair, consuming them both in a fiery blaze.

The human mercenary, a tall, lean hardened man who desperately needed a shave, shrugged at the elimination of both of the lizardmen and the wizard. Looking around for easier prey, he caught sight of a woman's lower body sticking out of the coach's open doors. With a howl of wild glee, he ran in that direction, knowing that she was the objective of this raid.

It was quite fortunate for Anri that she heard that loud yell so near her position. Letting out a most unladylike curse that would've caused her father to turn red with embarrassment, she pulled herself out of the Royal Coach and, with great determination and a little bit of fear, turned to face her soon to be assailant. Curiously enough, she kept her right hand resting in the Royal Coach, hidden from the mercenary's view, while watching him come closer.

The human raider slowed to a walk, having caught sight of Anri's beautiful features and howled again, this time in pure, unadulterated lust. "Give me no trouble at all an' I'll be gentle-like wit' ya, darlin'." He licked his lips suggestively, patted his crotch and advanced forward.

In another life, having trained with the great wizards and sorcerers in Manarina who helped bring out the command of powerful magic lying within her, Anri could have toasted him to cinders with a Level 2 Blaze.

However, in this reality, a single, subtle twist in the history of her life changed the way she was raised. This Anri, unfortunately, was scanned by the Manarina wizards as not having that much potential for being a manipulator of magic. Therefore, she had chosen a path different than the one her counterpart had taken.

When Anri judged that the raider arrived within four feet, she took a step back and suddenly whipped her right hand out of the Royal Coach. A flash of metal, an arc through the air, and a fierce slash wound appeared across the man's chest a split second later. Taken completely by surprise, the raider grunted in pain and staggered back a step. He took a moment to study the unexpected wound and found to his relief that it wasn't that deep. Ignoring the bleeding, his relief quickly turned to rage. "You sneaky little twit! I'll kill ya fer that, bloody princess or not!"

He attacked, translating his wrathful anger into a quick chest thrust, thinking that first hit had only been lucky. After all, she was a princess, and they were nothing but spoiled, helpless brats!

It might be noted that this particular raider was not the brightest of the bunch.

He had been right on most of his assumptions. Yes, it was true that sneak attack had been a lucky affair. Yes, it was undisputedly true that she was a princess. Yes, it could be called a roughly decent supposition that her father sometimes spoiled her. But a helpless brat Anri was most definitely not.

With practiced ease and without showing signs of panicking, she parried the thrust, beating it aside handily. The mercenary's surprise showed in his face, then he snarled, drawing back and slashing again, this time at waist. And once again, Anri skillfully deflected it. Getting frustrated, he sent his blade into a series of slashes and thrusts, all of which were successfully parried.

Then Anri went on the offensive. After her last parry, she turned it into a quick reverse stroke which was the raider barely parried. With a speed and strength of wrist which was masked by those state robes she wore, Anri took him by total surprise by stabbing out unexpectedly. Her opponent had vastly underestimated her, though, and didn't get his sword up in time to block. Her blade slid past his, and scored a direct hit on his right shoulder. Coincidentally, it was the shoulder which his sword arm was attached to. The mercenary let out a cry of agony and his arm dropped, but he didn't let go of his weapon. It didn't matter, for in a blink of an eye, Anri's rapier was a hairs width away from his chest.

It seemed that all those years of training under Guardiana's SwordsMaster had paid off.

Steeling her willpower, she forced herself to be dispassionate and jerked her rapier free. Somehow ignoring the blood, as well as the body as it crumpled to the ground, she ignored the urge to vomit and took in the situation.

It looked better than the first time she had seen it. The priests had been kept very busy, continuously healing and restoring energy to those who needed it. Their contribution was enabling the Guardiana knights and the elven fighters to live and fight longer. Anri shook her headed in dismay and confusion; how in the world did these brigands get so close to them without being seen? She knew that they were lucky; if the mysterious raiders had brought along archers and wizards and healers of their own, then the men and women from Guardiana would've had no hope of surviving, much less winning. As it was, thanks to the combination of healing spells and those bitter tasting herbs, the line held and even now as she watched, the Guardianans were now starting to push the enemy back. She let out a sigh of relief, but still kept alert. A sudden pang of guilt and worry spoke to her; where was Tom and Jerry? She couldn't see them as the two forces were mixed up. Anri could only hope that those two soldiers had managed to survive the ambush.

Anri and crew were unaware that near the trees a certain young fighter was keeping the leader of this brigand pack busy. If he hadn't, then the battle would have certainly had a different outcome.

End Chapter 6

Began: Sometime early February Finished: February 24, 2005 Editing completed: Febrary 24, 2005

Author's Notes:

I present the full version of Chapter six, roughly on schedule, give or take a few days. YAY! All right, I'm back on track with Distant Realities, and it's good to be back:D Tell me what you guys think. Is it up to the standards of the earlier chapters? I hope so, it's been a while since I wrote fantasy/RPG stuff.

You guys, the readers, probably have noticed that my chapters have been growing longer and longer with each new one. Well, that's done on purpose. I'm trying to teach myself how to write fanfiction in chapters of at least 60 kb or more.

Yes, Tom and Jerry was 'borrowed' from the famous cartoon. I just decided to throw them in on a whim. For Dyne, well, he's an original character I made up for a specific purpose, which will be shown in the next few chapters. And no, he's not the hero of the tale, Max will be and it'll remain that way! As for the 'single, subtle twist' in the history of Anri's life, well, that'll come gradually.

Thanks for reading, and sorry for the long wait!

Next chapter: Max VS Mishaela! And the winner won't be that easy to predict. Till next time, I'm outta here!

Darksoar or


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